Dark Desires
by KingUnderTheHill123321
Summary: Ke-Pa challenges the Dragon Warrior to a fatal game. A vengeful young rhino lurks in the shadows. Darkness will fall as the protectors of the Valley of Peace will be shown their grandest demons.
1. A Wind

A cold night.

It was quite cold. So cold, in fact, that the formerly fearsome Rhino Guards outside the Jade Palace wheezed a little, their crystalline breaths leaving them in short, violent outbreaks. The snow floated gently downwards, enveloping the Valley in a pleasant white blanket. The night air's frigidity knew no bounds; already Zeng had left for water, a mere 2 seconds after bringing back an extra pail. The bird flapped and quacked down the steps, the rubble and stonework coming lose beneath his scurrying feet.

_Damn bird, _he thought. _I bet he was a part of this_.

The guard really was not inclined to go and partake in the pastimes that his fellow men and women participated in; sickeningly one-sided games of Mah-Jong, or mundane bouts of laughter… No, he was quite content to stand right where he was, letting the white particles settle slowly on his horn, hardening it, desensitizing the young warrior to already harsh conditions. _A cursed blessing_, he assured himself. The snow was the least of his problems right now. Meanwhile, the men closest to the entrance to the Jade Palace were almost comically stoic; their rigid, implacable faces almost etched into their heads, with weapons that had scarcely been _removed_, much less _used_. Their uniforms frozen to stillness, their lower extremities surely losing sensation by now, their steely gaze never quite leaving the imaginary line in the horizon… all in fear of reprisal from the austere punishment which they had all deduced that would never come. No… they were here for a far grander reason… Loyalty? Respect? _Honor_?

The young guard scoffed, letting lose a light flurry of previously unmoved snow.

_Honor_. How ironic, considering the circumstances of their deployment. Trapped in a worthless assignment with a worthless cause, only to be aided by potentially the most worthless servant in China's history… well, at least somewhat worthless. The small bird fluttered erratically to his feet, his voice raspy and despondent.

"Water?" Zeng inquired, though with admittedly more curiosity rather than kindness.

"No thank you," the guard casually responded. He sniffed. He was not weak. He would need _nothing_. "You may go now."

Ever the coward, the avian hobbled off, evidently to fruitlessly offer water to more prideful guards, who would only give him the same answer… He looked at his toes, trying not to let the pile of snow on his cranium descend into his white nostrils. _Blue and freezing_, he thought to himself privately. _That can't be good_. He stole a glance at his surroundings again. The guards, in their shining veils of green and blue standing firm, Zeng evidently walking around, his commander, coughing and wheezing from the brutal temperature that surely took a toll on his already maladjusted body. _No,_ he told himself. _I couldn't ask him if I could leave_. The man was already choking on his own flesh, he might as well let him cough in peace. The snow settling on the guards was becoming heavy now, the night air was flying by with more force than any training session he had ever been in, and the muddy, wet ground, sordid as ever, creaked and moaned as the repeated footsteps of half-dead Rhino guards fell down.

And suddenly the forceful reality of the situation struck him, an underequipped, undertrained battalion of guards being sent, with more actual resistance from the dirt and frozen grass beneath their sturdy toes than the perpetrators in particular. He gasped once again, not minding the torrent of white coldness that pervaded his previously warm throat, but only because the night air had halted, the winds were no longer howling, the air was calming.. The frigid snow felt more tolerable now, the heavy winds lighter than usual; almost as if the Valley itself was sleeping… a feat in which he would have to be one of the Gods to achieve now. His eyelids drooped, retinas burning from underuse, hands nearly frozen to their sides, nose burning and uniform soaked with the melting of freshly fallen snow, the guard leaned, ever so slightly on the wall he was supposed to protect. Or at least… watch. He would rest for now. For now, he was no longer the stern protector of the Valley of Peace. For now, he was the small, sultry rhino that had once asked his mother to knit him a sweater to keep out the cold.

_Hehe,_ he chuckled. Perhaps if the Five and the Dragon Warrior hadn't slit her throat, then maybe he would have received that sweater after all.

**_A/N: Well that was ordinary until the end! First chapter in a predictably large work... don't want to spoil anything, but its rather fun to juxtapose heroes and villains... Eeep!_**


	2. The Mess

**3 MONTHS EARLIER...**

"PANDAAAAA!"

There it was. That piercing, diffusing, and utterly powerful scream that seemed to slice the air in front of it. Its master (so to speak) remained perched on a thin staff, the curves and fine contours of the seemingly still alive wood vibrating ever so slightly as the weight on top of it rocked back and forth from the sheer force of the voice; it no longer contained the hurried anger that it once had, rather, it was more disappointed and tired, as though it had been "let loose" so many times, the noise _itself _was beginning to grow tired of the Dragon Warrior. The Five masters that keenly observed the figure on top of the staff groaned internally. The figure on top of the staff smiled slightly, observing the strict discipline his students carried with them everywhere; the immaculate nature of their uniforms, the stoic stance they adopted when under pressure, even their faces made him proud: so focused, so eternally vigilant, the contours and crooks of their fur (or scales) bending in perfect harmony with their feelings. _They, at least, _he privately thought, _would make up for other… deficiencies. _And as usual, his eyes rapidly swerved to absorb the cacophonous noise that were the rumbling footsteps of what felt like a behemoth as _it _stumbled into the Training Hall.

"Sorry – Master – Shifu!" Po managed to breath out between gasps. "Was – sleeping!"

Shifu calmly passed an eye over him. Po's pants were tied on too tightly, highlighting the visible outline of his large midsection, the fur matted in clumps , obviously from the recent awakening of lying on them from. This did nothing to detract from his eager, wide-eyed idealism that poured from his jade eyes, flowing like an inexorable river. He was visibly shifting back and forth, as though the energy that it took for him to contain his hero worship was physically encapsulating him, the large round shoulders shivering due to something far more exasperating than wintry weather. His normally black and white complexion (if you could call it that) seemed a bit duller today, as if he had really indeed _just woken up_.

"At least you never disappoint…" Shifu quipped sarcastically, feeling that at the very least, he owed his protégé some sardonic comment so he would take this obviously infuriating tardiness more lightly. He was, after all, quite fond of the huge panda.

"I'm sure Master Po did not mean to oversleep… even if it does happen every other day."

Shifu revolved quickly, the peach wood scratching the floor from the sudden twist in direction. Tigress. Of course. She had always been rather – protective of him. Her orange pupils smiled as he relented and allowed a small curve to form his mouth.

"Yes, evidently…"

Po energetically strode forward, the floorboards creaking beneath his… impressive presence.

"So, whaddya got for me? I mean-" he quickly corrected himself, "What task do you have for me dude? I mean Master Shifu."

"What do you see here, Panda?" Shifu asked, although with perfect clarity on the obvious response.

Po meandered over to the edge of the Hall, taking in the sight before him. The wooden warriors lay hacked into pieces, the spikes embedded precariously in the flooring. The "fire holes" (as Po had affectionately dubbed them) were issuing large pouts of smoke from their previously perfect cylindrical opening. And to top it off, the swinging clubs stuck firmly to the top of the rapidly rusting metal arches, the chains hanging limply as the cool morning air slowly oscillated around the masters, rocking the chains back and forth, the _clinks _and _clanks _harmonizing in an astonishingly peaceful melody. The revolving ground pistons beneath the chains lay unmoving, clattering, and old.

"Well, my first guess would be –" Po began awkwardly. What was he to say? The Hall was obviously in such a state of ruin that it would be unwise to attempt to respond with anything. And then almost immediately an idea formed in his head.

"-Well it doesn't matter what I'm gonna say considering that you'll yell at me anyway. Am I right?"

Shifu chuckled in earnest. He had not expected this. There he was, all ready for a vicious, degenerate rant on the Panda's various insecurities and clumsiness before Po had beaten him to the surprise element.

"Yes. I think you know what to do regardless," the red panda replied, leaping down gracefully from his staff, tucking it behind him into a secure pouch as he hobbled away slowly, "because I think that overall… it is your fault. And-"

_If I stay, I might start laughing_.

"-I have some scrolls to attend to." _Coward_.

Po watched the old master he had long since admired and sought to emulate, as his soothingly green robe gently swayed above his small round feet. The Five followed suit, sans Tigress.

"Of course…" Po began, visibly more relaxed now. "You must have some crush on me or something, come on…"

Tigress walked slowly to him, trying to ignore his usual spout of bad witticisms. He needed to understand.

"It's not wise," she started, "coming late like that. This is the fifth time this week, and it hasn't even been 5 days!"

"Oh please don't tell me you're counting," he responded. A strict raise of an eyebrow immediately drained the humor out of his voice. "I guess I might be better served to-"

"Not guess, you _must_."

"Ok Ok, I'll come early from now on."

"Hmmm…"

He eyed her warily, both sickened and delighted to be treated like a mischievous child.

"I promise."

"Po."

"Seriously. Like, awesomely I will never betray your trust ever kinda serious."

"Right…" She slowly dragged her feet to the clubs. She had intended her sarcasm to be more spiteful, but she couldn't convince herself of such a prevarication.

Po brimmed with happiness. One of the many unique things about her. Sometimes even _she _would laugh. She smiled at him. She had really tried deep down to suppress it, but recently it seemed her body completely overrode her mind.

They worked diligently, repairing the Hall in record time. The _creaks _and _whistles _of their feet spread throughout the room, filling it with its meaninglessness. He had never bothered to ask why she was helping. He knew why. He just didn't want to admit it out loud… she would feel nervous and go away. After all, who was he to tell how _her _how much she cared? _Because I'm that clos-_

"Po. Tigress."

The masters swerved quickly on the balls of their feet. They glanced at the small insect that spoke carefully to them. The words were dulcet, focused… utterly purposeful. A rarity, considering the source. This tone was reserved. Quiet. Truthful.

"Someone wants to see the Dragon Warrior." Mantis quickly attempted to scurry away, only to be stopped by the booming voice of Tigress' somewhat curious tone, although it was far more protective than the former.

"About what?"

"Something about his friends being stuck under a pot."

_**A/N: Not bad eh? Well, I'm probably the worst judge of that but anyway, it might be a bit slow to start but it seems more flowing... like a real movie. Exposition has to be given proper respect right?**_

_**I enjoy Tigress as an older sister instead of the traditional romantic coupling that seems to be the norm. If, however, demand comes for romance between our favorite panda and tiger, then just say the word! **_

**_Even if I decide to go with the older sister thing, it will still be the main "relationship" of the fic... _**


	3. The Pig

The Hall of Heroes was scarcely used for anything other than tourism and meditation, so when a sickly pig walked inside presenting no visible signs of eagerness or wonder, Master Shifu was predictably confused. After all, the Hall was the strict property of the Jade Palace; trespassing could be punishable. _A rarity, considering the security of the _Palace, Shifu mused in his head, his furred eyebrows twitching painfully to make sense of the situation. Besides, the Hall, by itself, was in not state for visitors. The flat wooden roof groaned, its decrepit arches atrophying from the lack of maintenance, letting in the morning rays of light through the proliferation of cracks that had appeared on the surface of the rugged paneling. The stream of sun cascaded over the Hall, creating small ponds of light at the center of the green marble tiling, its symbol nearly opaque from dust. The robust crimson-gold pillars stood somewhat proudly above the desolation that was the floor, their golden contours lessened and shine dulled. The Hall was nowhere near collapse, but it was certainly not up to the monumentally high standards that its primary caretaker had held it to.

_Cursed panda. One day his indolence will get the best of him…_

Shifu did not have the time to complete his thought however, as once again the noise of heavy footsteps of feline and panda splashed into the Hall, startling the rest of the Five (who had quietly gathered behind him), but only earning a slight huff from the pig nearby and a mere exhausted sigh from Shifu himself.

Po pranced over to the Hall of Heroes, following Tigress. He quickly spotted the six motionless figures by the pool of water, its glittering surface containing distorted versions of the now seven figures (Tigress was quicker than he was, as usual) as well as the Dragon statue which had captivated the attention of nearly every viewer for so long. He gulped silently. He knew that whatever the reason, the tiny, ugly figure had not come for conversing about his imprisoned demon brethren.

_He's a pig. No… he was __**the **__pig. _

He fought a fleeting urge to laugh at his own repetitive joke. He would have liked to say that he was no longer afraid of _him_, that he had transcended fear and apprehension to replace them both with courage and confidence… but he could not convince himself. It was self-preservation after all, right? Cowardice and safety… two sides to a ridiculously convoluted coin. The pig's appearance did not look viscerally threatening, or even angry: a dirty brown cloak enveloping his petite body, only interrupted by what Po hoped to be only four limbs; a swelling set of toes and old, rotten fingers, their nails degenerating into ragged edges. Perhaps Po's reaction should have been disgusted or fearful, but it was indeed quite the opposite - rather, Po felt a perverse sense of curiosity, eager to learn why suddenly, his old foe had reemerged from his proverbial shadows. In any case, would he have the courage to speak to him? He walked forward. If anything, he would have six masters to guard him, albeit six masters whose previous success against the pig were less than admirable. He might as well surround himself with tofu. _Heh_. If he was able to enjoy tofu after this, he would thank the Gods relentlessly until his spine broke from the repeated prostrations.

"You're going to fall in."

Freezing on the spot, Po snapped back into observance and took note of Shifu's disappointed expression, before looking down and observing the pale blue, rippled reflection which was as beautiful as it was odious: a snowy face putridly stained with caution, a scrunched up fat nose, and a pair of eyes wide enough to fit two entire dumplings inside. That was perhaps what scared him the most.

"Hi Ke-Pa," he blurted out quickly, "What's up?"

The pig considered him for a moment, watching the panda's suppressed heavy breathing underscore his visible pallor. An impressive feat, considering the colors in play…

"I am quite well, Dragon Warrior," the pig started in a seemingly genuine impression of tenderness. "I hope," pausing to further enjoy the panda's delectable consternation, "you have been equally… _healthy_."

Po thought this was a bit cruel. He felt too much shame to look at the water again, afraid that what he would see would demoralize him further.

"Yes, I have been, in fact-" Po began, before Shifu cut him off.

"This is one of those rare moments," the red panda muttered with an air of superiority and aggression Po had scarcely ever detected in him before, "when I actually have questions instead of answers." The pig smiled.

"How are you alive?" Shifu spat, with pure loathing.

"Alive is such a broad definition…" Ke-Pa sardonically slurred.

"Then what are you doing here?"

"What _am I _doing here?"

"I've no time for your twisted mind games."

"Mind games…"

"Neither your infuriating repetition,"

"Imitation _is_ the _highest _form of flattery, they say…"

"Nor your vague, malicious nature."

"Of course…"

The pig stared at Shifu, smiling with such gentleness that Po swore he missed something… an unreadable expression manifested in Shifu's round features – almost… No… Po _still _did not understand.

"He broke me you know," the pig continued, this time with sincere gentleness. "A kind of breaking I have never felt before…" Po closed his eyes hard, unable to control his emotions.

"But of course, I recovered." Ke-Pa spoke, bending down to gracefully touch the water with the tip of his stubby, calloused thumb, twisting it inside to lazily fumble with the loose chippings of marble hidden by the water's blue depths.

"Details are of little importance, but –" _Scratch. _" – if I may try to explain –" _Scratch. _" – that – " **_Scratch. _**" – the present is more important." **_SCRATCH. _**Ke-Pa lifted his round finger upwards, leaving the cool blue expanse to trail water droplets, causing small ripples to be conjured in the middle of the pool before an even more massive ripple was formed from the _THUNK _of a marble chipping, evidently removed from the pig's disdainfully yellow nail.

"Oh why does it matter anyway? I just dropped by to greet you all! I'll take my leave now."

Po snapped back into reality. This was unexpected. Already? Surely there must be some hidden diabolical plan, some twisted motivation, some dramatic monologue that the pig wanted to make before his exit. He must have had something in mind…

_In mind._

"Wait, what – who – but – when – " came a shrill red panda's voice.

"No _Master Shifu,"_ the pig scorned, forcefully taking Shifu's hand into his, "I will hope to catch up to you later… After all, we have plenty of time _to catch up_." And with that one-sided handshake, the pig was off, trotting down the Hall.

"What are you scheming?" Tigress muttered, though with her strength, it might as well have been a scream.

"Scheming?" Ke-Pa playfully questioned, his suddenly booming voice dripping the same kind of irony and sarcasm Po had learned to detest from the moment of recognition, "I don't have to."

And with that, the pig was off, leaving the 7 masters locked in a deep stupor, a powerful trance that controlled their minds and manipulated their souls. Po stared more intently at the pig's retreating pair of hunched shoulders, awaiting the inevitable conversation that he knew _no one _would attempt to start.

**A/N: Feedback needed! There are a couple of questions I just realized I should ask...**

**-How is the chapter length working out for you guys? Too short? Too long?**

**-Character Development? The Five (sans Tigress) aren't given a lot of limelight usually, but its already tricky enough doing CD for three (soon to be four) main characters... But like I said last time, I'll do it if it becomes a "public" thing...**

**-Any other stuff?**

**All reviews that I read, I implement the changes if possible. (Big thanks to my first reviewer, who recommended Ti-Po! Consider it done.)**

**Finally, spread the word! (Only if you like it though... its counter-efficient to recommend "bad " fics...)**

**P.S: Don't get too used to the chapter-a-day thing... I guess I'm just in a really great streak right now, LOL.**


	4. A Talk

Nearly 300 miles away from the Jade Palace, a small fly buzzed haphazardly as it attempted to scan the beige floor beneath it for sources of food. The owners, as amazingly hygienic as they were, simply were not able to locate the source of the incessant din that emanated from seemingly thin air; their grey, serrated eyes completely oblivious to the presence of the misshapen dumpling bits that littered the floor, alluring the antics of the supposedly annoying insect. Other than that, the room was virtually inert; it seldom ever contained any inkling of life in its mud-walled interior, the shadow of the miniscule pest dashing across the surface of the uniformly auburn wood. The night breeze gushed through the frequently open window, chilling the spacious chamber, leaving an icy presence to linger softly, disseminating into pockets of cold, and _even more cold_. Although there were no closets, various scrolls and ornaments adorned the brown parapets, covering them with the sayings of Oogway, Kung Fu, and… this scroll seemed to be important, for it was perched above all the others… a single paper comprising of a great golden stamp, containing a bronze-colored, marble dragon: the symbol of honor, hope, and the Rhino Guard.

"-being up this late, no responsibility whatsoever…"

The wheezing voice initially approached the room more rapidly than the light footsteps that followed it, but it was obvious that the grey hulking figures that ambled into the scarcely-used compartment were interested in far more than flies. The taller of the two spoke smoothly, although he tried to suppress much more livid instincts.

"Duty calls, Mother… surely you know that at some point I will have to make sacrifices-"

"Not these types of sacrifices!" the shorter one snarled, "What could have possessed you to-"

"As I said… _duties_."

"Lies, Heng! You were out with Jin and Manchu again weren't you? Have I ever told you how ironic their names are?"

"I did _not _speak to them."

"So you _did _spend time with them? What is it today? Wine? Something stronger?"

"I do not drink Mother…"

"Yet you come here smelling like a rotten tofu cube. That stench is repugnant. If you do not have the common decency to even try to explain to your own-"

"MOTHER!"

Silence.

Heng turned away and stared at the miserable reflection present in the marble dragon. He was greeted by a pair of slumped shoulders overlooking a heavily armored torso; clad with green cloak bits and plates, ripped in various places, screening the rough grey hide beneath it. The face was expressionless yet tinged with regret, his body beaten, his mind broken… a thoroughly exhausting day gotten through only to receive more disappointment… the strength to force equanimity was rapidly enervating from him; blowing off like the cold wind that filled his rarely visited room.

He turned back and looked at her – his detestable excuse of a maternal figure, his eternal, permanent annoyance that would forever judge and scrutinize him, leaving nothing in her wake but shattered spirits and false hopes.

And yet, the cold, hard blue eyes stared right back at him, filling with a mixture of anger and sorrow he had learned to distrust; a ruse, a convoluted seduction that he knew was positioned only to ensnare the inept, quixotic fool.

A rush of sympathy overtook him, surprising the hazel pupils that resided deep into his skull. He towered above her, sighing as the shabby attire she sported every day coerced his eyes into observance. The sickeningly awful orange dress, the torn slippers, the laborious hands, the melancholy features, the caring-

_Caring? _

_No, _he shook his head abruptly. _I've fallen for this too many times before. I am no fool. _But his body acted of its own resolve, forcing a large hand towards his Mother's face, the massive fingers creating shadows underneath the visible bags under her retinas, before they gingerly made contact.

Her skin was wrinkled and shriveled. He felt the warmth of blood rush to his fingers as he felt even more foreign, although highly relatable emotions.

"It's just that – " he attempted, unable to halt himself, "I did not do any of those things."

The blue met the hazel, the older pair holding their mutual gaze for several seconds.

"Of course you did not…" she quietly stated, "Opium then?"

Heng did not even have the time to attempt a shocked expression, as the smaller rhino roughly removed his hand, reassumed the cold eye glare, and walked off… all within a fraction of a minute.

The tall figure lumbered back into the center of the space, looking fondly at the embodiments of memory that surrounded him from every direction. _Good memories…_ he thought. A young grey figure being awarded an axe as a trophy by an esteemed Guard member, a hilarious conversation with friends, the same figure running through a house, chased eagerly by a joyful female rhino…

He blinked. He knew what his eyes were trying to do to him, but he was steadfastly refusing to allow these emotions to surface. He was older now. He had responsibilities. He was a symbol of honor and strength… yet why did the pain come so naturally? Why did it have such an intimidating presence in his tired hovel of a mind? Why was it possible that every time anything from yesterday would arise, an inescapable feeling of melancholy seized him… nostalgia of the most abhorrent remembrances – a type of pain which he felt was worse than death, yet more pitiful.

**_My _**_memories. _That was perhaps the most agonizing conclusion of all.

He sat down idly in the middle of the floor, scattering dust and depositing bits of rock into the farthest corners of his room, long since abandoned since his commitments to the Guard. _It was fruitless_, he told himself. His mother would _never _consider what he told to be veracity. It was almost amusing in a sadistic sort of way… her remarkable proclivity to completely ignore anything that emerged from his chapped lips, desperate to argue, desperate to make her see his side... He had_ never_ been out drinking. He had not met Jin and Manchu. And now, opium? And yet, even though he had full understanding of her usual barrage of prolonged diatribes, he had always been confused by them. Affected by them.

_Hurt by them._

He desperately wanted to believe, even convince himself of a lie, of something that would let him know that beneath the heartless exterior and malignant presence, the cruel laughter and stern gaze… there existed some semblance of – love – even if it was rancid, even if it was tainted with anger, disappointment and shame for him.

_She has to have – she __**must.**_

Heng rocked back and forth, his head harmonizing in a sickeningly twisted sort of rest, unable to soothe even the rest of his body. His ears however, twitched brusquely as they detected a faint, although effervescent flapping. He turned his now suddenly weighty head to his right, glancing at the small, black, winged creature that floated around busily, settling on various scrolls before finally landing lazily on a painting of two figures. The shorter one held a childish expression, full of mischief. The taller one, slender and even beautiful, held the young child's hand keenly, the fingers coiling firmly on the small wrist.

_Almost as if he would run away_.

Heng smashed his fist into the painting, cracking the degenerate frame, crumpling the paper into pieces before withdrawing his now bleeding fingers, looking wrathfully at the squished black mass in the center of the picture, lying limply just above the child's head.

And he would continue to ram the bruised knuckles into the lifeless form, ignoring the present wails from his mother, the cries from neighbors and recently scared eavesdroppers… feeling a pure loathing; desperate to hurt the fly – although to his slight dismay, seeing nothing but the rapidly reddening, crumpled child.

_**A/N: Jin and Manchu mean gold and pure, respectively. Oh, and Heng means eternal!**_

**_Whew! Well, "The" Chapters will be focused on Po and the Five, while "A" chapters will focus on the other main storyline... a young rhino "yearning for justice". _**

**_Heng's backstory is somewhat influenced by the legendary Tony Soprano (from the Sopranos, duh)... not just for the angst, but also for the complexity... nothing like characters having believable conflicts._**

_**Other than that, remember to R/R and enjoy reading!**_

_**Update: **_

_**Well, I think I've set up enough of the story to start progressing into the actual "core" of the plot. (E.g the psych stuff, mystery, etc.) Don't worry, the format will be the same... it's just that now, I'm going to make chapters a bit more engrossing. (And therefore, slightly longer delays in chapters coming out... I'll get a new one out this Sunday) Not to mention, this series desperately needs some action... (as one anonymous person mentioned) after all, it is a movie about animals doing kung fu, right?**_

_**And finally, a massive thank you to all reviewers! (All four of them) It may seem small, but WOW do I love the comments! Enjoyed the awesome feedback. I even have followers now!**_

_**Ok, I'm sounding overly giddy again, but I needed to say it. You guys rock!**_


	5. The Feathers

"Well?"

It was a simple question really. In fact, it was an inquiry so direct, so blatantly easy to reply to, that Po momentarily failed to recall the harsh, probing tone, instead choosing to wholly focus on the mere plainness of the austere, somewhat uncouth demand. His eyes drifted lazily, admiring the exquisite detail of the action figurines (placed at strategic points specifically purposed to annoy the Five) on his peach-colored shelf. It was _his _room after all. In here, they would either have to learn to live with the prominent sycophant or grudgingly submit to his prolonged bouts of adulation. But the high praise and far-reaching compliments were no longer flowing… the entire space was suspended in a perpetual silence. Even his room was literally _vacant_ now; (having previously been emptied for the sole purpose of the masters converging for discussion) nothing remained on the white paper walls, neither did the brown frames support his favorite captured weapons. Memorabilia no longer littered the hard wood floors… even the bed was pushed back several feet (leaving thick drag marks buried deep into the surface of the base) to leave room for the masters to meet unofficially in the circular room (renovated, Po proudly held); Shifu balanced on his staff at the epicenter, while the Five and Po surveyed him noiselessly, their eyes focused on the equally resolute red panda, but their ears tuned to the seemingly lost Po, immobile in the naïve hope that he would respond to the already incensed questioner. Po was aware of this, but was far more concentrated on battling a surprisingly resistant feeling of self-loathing. How exactly could he descri –

_Guilt?_

"Po?"

"I heard you both times Shifu," Po answered smoothly. "I don't think anything's gonna happen."

If Po had ever known what the true meaning of awkwardness was, (considering his packed repertoire for self-deprecation) he would have learnt it again anyway. Even Zeng's annoyingly daily attempts to qualify himself for the Valley's Winter Festival Dances from over _300 feet _outside the Palace were audible over the immense hush that permeated the room after his assertion; the incongruous thud of webbed feet against gravel and stone somehow melodically coordinating with Shifu's flaring white whiskers.

"You think _nothing _will happen?" Shifu examined mockingly, the bristly, concerted eyebrows twitching in supreme annoyance. "Panda – "

"He said nothing would happen," Po quickly added.

"So there are no side-effects?"

"Nope."

"No repercussions?"

"Nah."

"No confusing claims?"

"Everything was pretty clear to me."

"Zero tone changes during our conversation?"

"Well tone is sorta different for – "

"Nothing to indicate a particular antipathy?"

"I'm not a fatty! I've slimmed down…"

"No ominous signs?"

"Hehe, ominous rhymes with – "

"No open-ended statements that were left so to indicate a future idea that would threaten to harm the citizens of the Valley of Peace?"

"… No?"

Po grinned clumsily, his face stupidly twisted into a half-smile, half-expression of unease. Shifu looked as if his first instinct was to throw Po out the window, then another expression overtook him as he realized that would be very comical, before more grim features settled as he evidently believed this to be a waste of time.

"Educate me, when was the last time you purchased a fully-functioning mind? My mistake, how about the ability to think at all? Were the market prices too steep for you?"

Po stuttered and fumbled instinctively with his tight pants, evidently both trying to fully comprehend the insult and think of an appropriate retort.

"Much too exorbitant for you then…"

Po surveyed Shifu beneath his old, rapidly scrunching eyebrows, the oval eyes tired with disappointment and longing.

"Listen to me judiciously," Shifu spoke, his voice discreet but tremendously effective at conveying the indisputable authority fueling the baritone chords. "Ke-Pa would never make such a journey to here without some plan… and how he survived his confrontation with Po… that is even more perplexing."

He twisted to Po.

"What remains of this plan is up to speculation. If anyone thinks he came for mere conversations – "

Po gradually looked away, sensing the burning stare of the Grandmaster on his shoulder.

"– that deduction would not be… prudent. Don't you all see what his plans are? His eccentric proclivities? He has some grander scheme in mind, despite his objection to the term. Something… I just can't quite put my finger on it."

The Five and Po gazed at Shifu attentively, expecting further clarification, but the brows were convulsing sensitively… they were only musing.

"When Ke-Pa was talking to you, he looked at you funny – " Mantis interrupted the silence, "almost as if you wanted to say something but you stopped… Po even saw it. I doubt he understood it though."

"Yeah," Po added, ignoring Mantis' sardonic remarks. "Something you wanted to – "

"Nothing." came the prompt, monotonous reply. "Be on your utmost guard. I will see if there is anything the local Guard can tell us about these… disturbing developments."

Po wanted to say something, anything, (even a compliment at Shifu's knack for unintentional alliteration) but no words fled his mouth as the hunched over master slid down from his staff, grasping it carefully as he sluggishly trudged out of the room. Viper and Tigress examined as Po and the rest of the Five ambled out of the narrow doorway, clearly to pursue the old master and interrogate him for the answers they both discerned would never arise.

Tigress slowly attempted to follow suit, before stopping at a slight hiss.

"Wait," Viper breathed, her tone innately friendly but genuinely purposeful. "I sorta wanted to talk about – "

"Just because we are both females," Tigress interrupted, "that does not entitle us to long conversations about our various romantic preferences. I mean by the Gods, could you be more of a walking cliché?" Tigress viewed her empirically; enthusiastic panic was transcribed on her face, masked by an objectivity that she knew Viper could rarely achieve, unless –

"I wanted to talk about the Guard."

Tigress narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"The… Guard?" she finally managed.

"Exactly," the serpent reiterated. "Ke-Pa is certainly a threat currently, but have you noticed the crime rate reports?"

Tigress pondered briefly, searching for an alternative to the obvious answer.

"Doubled," Viper supplied, "and it shows no rate of stopping. The Valley is slowly becoming a center of evil, I'm afraid. Everything! Just this morning, I heard a story from Monkey where he witnessed a villager being brutally – "

"Spare me the gruesome anecdotes," Tigress interjected.

"Well, the point is," Viper resumed, disappointed but still eager to finish speaking, "crime in the Valley has gone up and there seems to be some corruption in the Guard. Deals being made, coins being cut, if you know what I mean. Most of the time it's under control but sometimes… sometimes I fear the Valley is tearing itself apart. And I would have told this earlier to the others, but I feel we need to split our efforts. If we focus on Ke-Pa, we lose this. If we focus on this, we lose Ke-Pa. We have to divide ourselves so we can control both issues with ease."

"Very well," the feline sighed, brain buzzing with the overload of new information. She would have to tell Po.

_Po. Why did that come so readily?_

"And the probable perpetrator?"

"Shifu."

A swift, loud smack could be heard as an even louder clatter resonated nearly four feet away. The racket of falling action figurines reverberated throughout the room.

"Excuse me?" Tigress asked, fur prickled, eyes burning with malice, crouched down with one paw lifted, an almost searing red liquid ran down the index finger, staining the fur a bright crimson.

"Please," Viper tried, simultaneously scrubbing her mouth on her thin tail while struggling to recuperate from the blow at the other side of the room. "Listen to me carefully."

"I am far more tempted," Tigress indignantly snapped, "to ensure your unconsciousness."

"Just – " Viper started once more, "Think about this. How much training has Shifu had us do so far?"

_None at all, _Tigress cogitated, her emotions stubbornly refusing to relinquish their dogged clutch on her… and yet the rational logic was beginning to crush the histrionic caricature of sentimentality –

"How many times have we tried to help the Guard?"

_Zero._

"How many times has Shifu been out late at night, fur rumpled from bruises and smelling of wine?"

_Far too much to count._

"How is it that our safe deposit with all our reserve wealth continues to trickle down every day, with Po being blamed for purchasing food far beyond the limits of even _his _eating aptitudes?"

"Enough."

Viper lugubriously regarded the crestfallen master. The orange, fiery gaze was diminished and wallowing in self-doubt; the rigid posture was slumped forward, the paws oddly drenched in relaxation… not a relieving breather, but rather a crude acknowledgment, an act of submission – anomalous, considering the usually dominant originator.

_Her father. _

That must have miffed her somehow, despite the pair's mutual contentions against curious questioners that they were nothing more than master and student. She knew she should attempt to comfort, through words or gestures, but was interrupted by an abrupt shriek.

"Guys!" Po yelled, bounding into the room with vigor. "Hooligans! Down at the Village!"

_Heh, hooligans is a funny word,_ Po contemplated privately.

And somehow as the other two left expeditiously, the feline lumbered out of the paper frame, legs dragging in utter loss, the adrenaline that once could be summoned at will no longer even remotely existent.

_ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo_

**3 miles away…**

The Cavern was murky and intimidating, but the sole light at the midpoint of the expanse brimmed with prevailing radiance, the proprietor standing idly, waiting for the gathering that had been premeditated for what he supposed were eternities. Darkness shrouded the entire space, nothing but walls of blackness and a singular, focused, yellow brilliance.

_Thud. _

The pig coughed smartly, wheezing with disbelief and cautiously obscured fear. Whirling to his right, he noted the approaching cloaked, oval-shaped outline. The green cloak glided off the small form as the defined features of the Jade Palace Grandmaster came into view.

"Did you secure it?" Shifu quizzed, though with an air of presumption that his query accomplished the task faithfully.

"Yes, indeed. I have it here – " Ke-Pa began, reaching into his veiled satchel, before feeling a rough, furred hand force his stumpy fingers back upwards.

"Not now, you dim-witted fool," growled the old master. "I say when you start, understand?"

"Yes… of course, of course – "

"How long?"

"Before our mutual collaboration comes into effect?"

"That is a far more long-term plan. I mean, how long did it take you to acquire this?"

"A couple of days." the pig presented proudly, puffing out his small chest in pride, as if he was showing his father a trophy. "The Guard gave me some trouble, but I managed to evade them clandestinely – "

"If I wanted lengthy delineations of your own _supposed_ greatness_ – _" the meticulous emphasis almost mortifying, "I would have simply asked for _lies_."

The words bit into the pig's ears, crashing against the frail eardrums like stones.

"What about you, Shifu?" the pig daringly asked, the use of his name irritating the Grandmaster's cold face. "Everything goes as smoothly on your end of the barga – "

"Shut up," Shifu voiced severely, quelling the former Dragon with one deadly glare. "It's not within your realm of rights to ask me of my personal affairs. If I desire a consultation – " Shifu stepped closer to the winded old pig, "I will ask for one. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then, this is all you need to know. Commander Heng is indeed a major threat."

"To us?"

"No, to the rice farm just overlooking the Bamboo Forest. Of course_ us_ you moronic imbecile! He is one of the few _valiant_ members of the Guard – " again, the sarcasm virtually overflowing from the snarling throat, " –that has refused to have been paid off."

"The others?"

"Accept coin like a chieh* in heat. Amusing in some, pitiful in the rest…"

"Of course, the financial situation of theirs, which force them to accept the coin – "

"Are the direct by-products of my greatness, yes…"

"Well, yes."

Shifu glowered in incredulity.

"You disagree?"

"No."

"So take care of him."

"Heng? But I need more resources from you to adequately – "

"Very well. I will discuss this later. For now, give me _it_ now."

"All right," the pig tried again, reaching into his satchel.

_Thwack._

The pig's head burned in agony, the sullied muscles throbbing rhythmically.

"Crap!" Ke-Pa scorned, trying frantically to lull his stinging temples.

"Actually, I don't want it anymore," Shifu hummed, walking away leisurely.

The pig gulped, feeling another rush of blood as the sharp fingers connected with the base of his skull yet again.

"Never mind, I want it now."

The pig scrabbled with his satchel erratically, desperate to pull out the vial of white powder. Shifu snatched it, clawing the tender digits. The red panda gripped the pig securely, bringing him near enough so that the pig could feel the vicious, rumbling breaths. The old panda's face was lighted with a panicked joy; a happiness that he detained tightly, as if it was so smooth it might wrestle out of his firm grasp.

"I _own _you."

_Control. _

The pig let out a cry as Shifu plunged his small body into the hard, uneven rock surface. He watched the master traipse away in satisfaction. Ke-Pa began to laugh in earnest, reluctant tears streaming down his bruised cheeks.

_I made him proud. I actually made him proud of me_.

Even as he perceived the thud of footsteps and the forceful kicks against his ribs, the pig felt content with his accomplishments, his new-found enthusiasm not lessened from the rapidly reddening, tattered cloak laced around his midsection.

Joy.

_ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo_

He was out of breath again. He knew he should have eaten more before they left the Palace in such an urgency, which seemed to be much more often than usual now. Now, here he was, weary already and malnourished, trying to keep up with his much lighter comrades. Sprinting down the steps of the Palace, Po coughed sporadically, feeling the heavy rock and gravel practically moaning underneath the heavy pressure.

"Po, try to keep up!" Crane shouted violently, his wings soaring above effortlessly.

Po refocused himself and gaped astonishingly at the four equally speedy figures in front of him, the feline leading the charge in a prideful, magnificent stride. She was the second-tallest after all…

_And the first most beautiful. _

_Idiot, _Po reproached himself. Those… considerations were precarious enough as they were – but to let them slip out? He would rather die. Or rather, he_ would_ anyway considering the circumstances of that speech. His thoughts of course, did not prevent his near sudden collapse in the bottom of the stairs as a svelte green tail enfolded itself around his massive forearm, holding him back from the pure chaos that was occurring.

"Po, they're here!"

He did not get the chance to thank Viper before she essentially launched herself at the two wolves in front of her, coiling firmly around their weapons, forcing them together to clash audibly with each other's pates.

"All right, comically generic wolf guys! Prepare to feel the thu – "

_Smack. _

_Stupid, Stupid!_ Po reproved, awkwardly rubbing his now-painful jaw. How many times had Tigress told him to attack first, amazing catchphrases later?

He observed his surroundings for a fraction of a second. He ducked briefly as Crane thrashed a bandit towards him, the fine metal spikes of his weapon grazing Po's fur. He sidestepped into the dirt, propelling forward his fist, crashing into a nearby robber who was instantly unconscious from the force of the blow. Feeling inwardly pleased with himself, Po leaped into the air to clasp onto Monkey's lanky arms, swaying around the center of the battle to heave the golden-furred primate towards four thieves nearest the steps. How _had _they managed to come so close to the Palace? It was strangely… predictive. A dire foreboding seized hold of him, before he refocused himself to observe the flash of metal in front of him as he _just _managed to avoid its range of impact before hearing the thud of spikes against the floor. Thinking quickly, (laughing at the thought of Shifu objecting to this assertion) Po rammed his broad shoulder into the nearly indiscernible Mantis, driving him forward in a burst of speed. He watched in awe as the green blur weaved in and out of the anarchy, disabling wolves more quickly than Po could watch them tumble.

He spun around, twisting his forefoot into the nearest wolf's midriff, pushing him back towards Tigress, who was preoccupied with lobbing a cart at two wolves. A satisfying screech could be heard as the ferocious master consequently forced the now air-born wolf to follow the cart, his eyes glazed in astonishment at the distance between him and the ground increasing with every second. Tigress briskly gyrated, thrashing about she felt two heavy figures press her down.

Po practically sprinted to the three sprawling outlines as he swung his knee directly into the thick chest of the first wolf. Yelping painfully, the muscular warrior flew backwards, lone clumps of striped fur clenched firmly in his large hand.

"Get… OFF!"

The roar probably injured the two colossal attackers more than the two punches that landed square on their rigid jaws from two orange paws shortly thereafter. The assailants were flung into the heap of now stagnant bandits.

"Nice job," Po complimented.

"You were being chivalrous, hmmm?" Tigress asked.

"No… I was being a good friend."

"Friend?"

_Danger. Danger. Do something to divert the tension, now._

"No of course not…" Po stumbled, "I was just – "

"You are romantically attracted to me?"

Po gulped deeply, feeling the blood rise to his cheeks in pure shame. And she laughed.

"Don't worry about it Po, I'm just teasing – "

Watching glumly at the retreating tiger's back, Po smirked in relief and subtly allowed his smile drop into a slight, almost faint sulking expression.

_Don't worry about it._

"Where's Shifu?" Viper called out.

"Couldn't make it. Left almost immediately after Po and us questioned him," Monkey replied. "Said he had work to do."

Po looked around as he more keenly observed his surroundings. Motionless bandits lay down on the floor, weapons littering the steps, bits of gravel and chunks of dirt misplaced and strewn all over the one-sided confrontation. Po bent down gently to feel the edge of a sword, caressing the sharp edge before being nearly thrown off his feet from the force of an impossibly stout bunny.

"The Dragon Warrior and the Furious Five have saved us!" the bunny squealed in pure enjoyment.

_A little corny to say that_, Po ruminated, grinning broadly. He watched the Five overwhelmed with the massive crowds of white and brown, bunnies, pigs, and even rhinos surrounding them – the epicenter of heroics, the yet again victorious remnants of –

_Choking. _

Awkwardly, he turned around to witness four masters bending over a spluttering Crane. The bird was gasping for air, but nothing entered his narrow beak except the confused sounds of the masters above him, and nothing exited the protruding mouth except spurts of powdered grayness.

_The pig._

No, it could not be him. And yet, there he was… suddenly emerging from the horde of nervous onlookers to roughly shove aside Mantis and Monkey as he held Crane close to his small chest, inspecting the yellowed eyes, the foaming beak, the now flaring nostrils – all as the rest of the Five gawked at him, too stunned by the mere implausibility of _his_ assistance to actually attack him.

"Let Master Yuang inspect Master Crane!" one of the smallest bunnies squeaked, as Mantis tried to force off Ke-Pa from Crane's limp body.

Po managed to escape his personal crowd of fans as he stood near Monkey, face red with nervous apprehension.

_Master Yuang?_

And a final splutter and reddened spurt of air, Crane ceased to move.

The pig shook his body softly, encouraging him – almost… pleading him to move. The round, chubby features were grim for a moment, before finally turning to look at Tigress square in the face, the tangible conclusion all but carved into his face.

"No…" Viper started, fangs receding, head lowering… Po would have to talk to her later. She out of everyone else – _No. One problem at a time._ Right now, he needed to –

"YOU." Tigress barked, with a palpable repugnance. "You did this."

And the pig ignored the crowd's collective gasp, before speaking coolly, looking calmly back at the fiery gaze, confusion and genuine amusement etched into his honestly inquisitive features:

"No. I wanted to play a game."

Po did not notice the rotund fading shoulders this time, instead feeling the now rapidly whitening substance spilling down Crane's graying feathers swiftly engulfing his feet, the heat transferring serenely to his toes as the fur was soaked with the bleached liquid, restrained by the heavy flow; the fine hairs bent over flimsily: obedient, compliant, submissive…

Defeated.

_**A/N: **_

_***Chieh = concubine**_

_**Yay! Managed to finish it a bit earlier than promised... Anyway, this is what mostly the chapters will be like from now on - Of course, unless anyone objects to it... It takes a bit more effort on my part and is (what I think at least) more engrossing. Finally, the psych elements kick in! I know a lot is deliberately left open-ended, but keep in mind it's a big story... by the end, everything **__**will**__** be resolved...**_

_**-A Chapter a week sound good to everyone? More time? Less time?**_

_**- Any recommendations whatsoever?**_

_**Well, you know what to do. Enjoy reading, R/R, Oh... and Kung Fu Panda: Legends of Awesomeness has a new episode coming out September 5th! *Squeals* Just found via the magic of wiki: Emperor's Rule. Should be a good one.**_

_**Peace!**_

_**Update**_

_**-The dampening cloak around Ke-Pa's midsection is blood, not urine! (LOL) Kudos to one reviewer for pointing out the ambiguous phrasing!**_

_**-Yeah, I know I'm changing story titles a lot, but it's a work in progress right?**_


	6. A Tent

The dust progressed fiercely into his nostrils, inflaming the sensitive walls, and eventually descending into the tender esophagus before irritating the tissue in the mature throat. The bruised skin covering it twitched in agony, the hide convulsing under the persistent stress. The nearby rhinos clashed noisily against each other, their wooden swords striking each other with an echoing din that distracted some of the new cadets; easily impressed with their first weapon usage, the clamor of weapon against wood captivating their attention long enough for their more experienced partners to lob them out of the chalk-drawn white circle enclosing the two struggling combatants.

"Enough! Enough! Stop with the – "

Heng endeavored to finish his statement before his arms were forced downwards by intrusively rough hands, bitterly feeling the ground suddenly revolve beneath him and slam into his protruding cheekbones.

"Excellent! Excellent!"

The thin (albeit energetic) fingers left his injured wrists and he felt the imposing presence of Commander Vachir advance hastily onto his resting figure.

"Heng, you might have a thing or two to learn – " out came the gruff, authoritative proclamations from the esteemed Commander, " –disregarding your general performance, I would say this was one of the worst beat-downs you suffered in quite a lot of time. In real combat you actually might have died…" Vachir snapped his head back slightly; the mere sight of the flexible clavicles and lips bending persuaded Heng's stomach to churn: both in actual hunger and mixed amusement and trepidation – was Vachir actually finding his mortality… _funny?_

_It wouldn't be the first time he undervalued our lives, _Heng furtively held.

Heng got to his feet and stole a glimpse at the taller rhino by his side, attempting a casual smile but instead achieving an awkward grimace that had the same therapeutic effect; the rhino beamed in amusement, the curve of the chapped lips slightly uplifting Heng.

"I promise I'll try better next time, and sir?" Heng called out at Vachir's quickly turning away body, "I wanted to talk to you about – "

He stopped midway, deliberating over his next words before staring in perpetual hypnosis at the crusted gash running across the Commander's face.

_Careful._

"Nothing sir," Heng finished. _Weak._

"Smart, Wimpo… not quite smart enough – as usual…" Vachir let out scathingly, actually turning and stepping smartly over the white circle without disturbing the intricacy in chalk detail. This circle was much more aesthetically complex than the others, earning Heng's bitter laughter.

"How much time did you spend on this?" he let out between half-laughs, half-coughs.

"Not more than two hours…" the rhino beside him mused, evidently trying to lie more to himself than to Heng.

"Sure…"

"Well, I – "

"Jin – "

" – guarantee I spent only 2 hours. Not 1 more."

Heng eyed Jin with great amusement, clasping his green vest and pulling him adjacent.

"Moron."

Heng twisted his wrist upwards while shifting his arm viciously sideways, flinging the mass clutched in the calloused fingers out of the white circle. The form collided with the ground, generating a resonant thud and scattering clouds of dust .

"What happened today? I never usually get to see you sprawled on the floor." Jin interrogated while getting up, gingerly rubbing his pointed nose, the cartilage surely deformed slightly from the sudden drop in… altitude.

"Mother." replied Heng, awkwardly grating the top of his sharp white horn in fake-sadness.

"Shame."

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Jin had attempted several times to coerce Heng into elaborating further while they both strolled down the mud pathway that cut through the camp, but he was met with nothing more than sarcastic remarks and angered insults. Heng of course, felt this profoundly comical considering that his experiences were solely _his _problem, not to mention all the questions he had reluctantly fielded were both misguided and vague; deliberately so, it would seem.

They plodded noisily across the mud, feeling the rapidly decaying stonework collapse with every heavy step, while observing the red tents around them bustle with commotion and enormous, infectious noise.

"The _proud _warriors of the 33rd Regiment…" Jin specified as he barely avoided an overly anxious orderly from running straight into him.

"That idiot…" Heng whispered, gesturing towards the orderly, "…is probably swallowing gold right now –"

"Him and half the lot in this infested shithole," Jin ducked again, narrowly missing a drunken bunny lumbering forward with a pile of wood. "You _do _know why, don't you?"

"Not really," Heng swerved to his left, grazing the fine tip of a wobbling spear perched on the back of a giant elephant.

"Well, it's the coin we're getting right now, isn't it? That's the problem." Jin elevated his right arm up gently, materializing an archway for a passing pig muttering strangely to himself.

Heng failed to notice the approaching broad frame in front of him, consequently feeling his face being firmly smothered into a hard metal chestplate.

"Oi! Try seeing with your eyes instead of your arse!" the guard lumbered off, letting out a stream of profane expletives for good measure.

"What?" Heng blurted out, repositioning himself in front of Jin.

"500 Yuan per month. That will take care of you for some time, but take away imperial taxes, savings, and the occasional drunken uncle who needs some more coin and swears he's quit drinking this time around…" Jin trailed off, lost in fond memories.

"And you need to take bribes then." Heng finished.

"Right as Vachir with battle strategy, I'm afraid…"

"Have you ever taken any?"

A moment of painfully loud silence commenced, the clatter of weapons and thudding footsteps surrounding the two lanky troopers.

"HAVE YOU?" Heng asked again, piercingly enough to sound authoritative but not quite loud enough to lure attention.

"No… " Jin answered, looking evenly back into Heng's demanding ovals, "But I would – the second I needed to." Heng shut his eyes quickly, sighing with pent-up frustration. "And here's the thing Heng,"Jin treaded slightly forward, reeling in his cloak firmly to acclimate to the rapidly freezing weather, "You're a fool to think anything else."

"I –"

"Save it Heng. I've no time for your fluffy speeches," Jin snarled, the narrow chest puffing out in earnest anger. "Times have changed,"

"And so have you…" Heng snapped back.

"Yes," Jin narrowed his eyes roughly, "Yes I have."

Heng stood inaudibly for a moment, warily constructing the speech that could perchance save him from his current predicament.

"You don't have to worry so much," Jin indicated, eyebrows curling in mock-concern. "I know you don't have the same – "

"Lack of morals?"

"Pragmatism."

"Right…"

Heng proceeded to pace onward again, anticipating inwardly that Jin would take this as a tacit signal for the end of their risky conversation. He was relieved to make out the small, periodic thudding of narrow feet beside him. He would broach this subject later. First, he would have to go back to his Mother and attempt a fruitless effort at conversation again – pointless as it was, something in Jin's speech roused two ideas in him. The first for his turbulent familial life, and the next –

"You know the opium case we're working right now?" Heng asked, although with blatant assumption rather than genuine curiosity.

"No. Sorry, I was too busy grieving over Master Crane's unsightly demise, because, you know, I have a _lack of morals._" Jin bitingly replied back. Heng hated the irony shielding his statements, but tried to reason with him anyway.

"You know when it comes to – " Heng started.

"Yes."

"And because of – "

"Yeah."

"And then I had to – "

"Got it."

"So that's why I don't grieve. I just don't feel it's appropriate when – "

"I know it all."

Heng, satisfied that Jin understood his point, resumed the current subject at hand.

"So do you know about it?"

"Of course," Jin breathed out, "Been the biggest case for months. Probably years soon, at the rate things are going…"

"Yeah well, there's something odd I realized right about now – "

"Which is?"

"I'm getting to that. We've lost track of what, 920 catti's* of the stuff so far? Tell me… what's unique about that number?"

Jin stood motionless, raising his eyebrow in sheer frustration.

"I hate it when you do this," he finally managed.

"Do what?"

"Do that annoying thing when you know something but you ask me stupid –"

"It's a multiple of 10."

"And it's smaller than 921"

Jin sniggered inhospitably, the raspy tones practically tumbling over another. His riposte however was even more bitingly caustic:

"So, what, we're back to school now? Maybe with all your money you can try to educate us lower people of – "

"What fools would take the time to precisely weigh out, distribute, and collect 10 catti's* of opium? You've seen the druggies that come through here – do you think in that sorta state, they have the ability to be more precise than a drunken bartender?"

"So what? They might have stolen random amounts before. Maybe the fact that its 920 is just a coincidence now – "

"I've checked the logs. It's always 10. Time after time after – "

"I get it."

"Then maybe we have a chance to do something about it. Like – "

"Tell Vachir?"

Jin and Heng snickered together, the fleeting bystanders glowering hesitantly at the two tall figures convulsing in wholesome mirth.

"Too bad Manchu is away on training," Jin stated brazenly, between still intensifying laughs. "He would have laughed too… Now then… who's to tell the old bugger?"

Then suddenly, they both knew what they had to do.

"Yaogun, zhi, jiandao!*"

Their voices synchronized perfectly, their hands discharging forward simultaneously. Heng was dissatisfied to discover a bony fist pulverize his spread apart index and middle finger.

"You then," Jin smiled triumphantly.

The tall but thin rhino strode off, leaving a now-thoroughly exhausted Heng spinning away as well, marching into a distinctive red and green tent, virtually tearing the opening flap towards him.

_All your money._

He wasn't quite sure why that had perturbed him so greatly. Of course, he had heard it from nearly everyone – it was "apparent" that his dearth of pecuniary struggles proved his own supposed "snobbiness", but he had no idea on how to sway the others that into comprehending that he was genuine. That the coin his mother supplied him with did not entail an ego, did not fill him with personal pride… did not make him feel superior in any way.

But they had never listened.

They would never listen. How could they? He was merely an affluent show-off to most of them, an eternal lurker in his mother's overwhelmingly hefty shadow… she had accused him of shooting up hadn't she?

_Opium then?_

It all fit. He had double-checked the logs almost every day, the missing report always mentioned the stacks of powder leaving in stacks of 10; it seemed too premeditated, too cautiously planned, and far too deliberate to be merely an addict's drug-fueled frenzy or desperate claw for more oblivion; it was… _meticulous_. He had inspected the heavily-secured boxes himself. The lid was left unscathed, the yellow padding intact, save for a nearly impalpable hole sullying the side that served as the only sign that the purported intruders ever existed at all.

_A blemish._

Getting Vachir to cooperate would be another thing. How many times had he tried before to persuade the cynical war general? _Cooperate… _He might as easily decapitate himself. Manchu was fond of those repulsive things anyway was he not? Heng pictured his bulky middle heaving in panicked excitement, the tiny head with perhaps seven chins vibrating in nauseating excitement. _Jin mentioned he might be off training_. Then, inexplicably, he felt a wave of anger surge through him.

_Pragmatism. _

He snorted with liberating impunity. Impossible. Honor, ethics and principle were all applicable – regardless of their current situation. Just because _Jin _said so. _Stupid moron_, he thought. He smiled slightly as he imagined Vachir loudly berating Jin in front of everyone, Jin's knobby knees twisting underneath the stern gaze, the deceivingly frail chest trembling underneath the strain of the yelling. Heng moved his head upwards, glancing at the bleak space that was his tent. He needed to act quickly. He would only have 5 minutes before the daily briefing, and the last time he had arrived late Vachir had quickly made sure to leave him hospitalized for an entire week. He had thought many times of complaining, of speaking, of doing _anything _to let the Guard higher-ups know about the various "atrocities" Vachir had committed daily - the thought vanished as quickly as he found his quill and paper, tucking them beneath his robe as he crept out of the tent, witnessing the rush of eager rhinos as they scurried forward into a particularly large white tent not 300 feet away.

Sporting a newly energetic gait, Heng followed suit.

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_"__And crime reports have nearly tripled in filing since 2 months ago, a precedence which we all could learn from in earnest analysis –"_

Heng was not paying attention to the droning voice echoing from the epicenter of the large auditorium. Vachir would inevitably keep talking about crime rising in the Valley, which he found more vexing than worrisome. Besides, the opium issue took priority; Jin had even agreed with him. Heng readjusted his sitting position as he glanced downwards into the red seats below him. This tent was relatively new; he could easily deduce this from the new stamp of the Emperor's seal, its flashy colors burned into the tent's pointed top on the outside. The "theater" itself was segmented into four open seating arrangements. He had always preferred the topmost podium, eager to glance downwards at the action while avoiding Vachir's seemingly all-encompassing glare. He felt almost overwhelmed by the sheer size of the space; wondering inwardly whether it was all part of Vachir's omnipresent, grand scheme to methodically stomp the self-confidence out of the Guard.

_" – __and because of these new reports, a stern curfew will be introduced to better combat the crime rates. While this likely will do quite a number on the morale of the citizens – "_

"God, does he ever stop talking?" Jin asked beside him, uneasily bent sideways by the massive flab of fat teeming from the side of the elephant sitting next to him.

"Anytime would be nice" he continued, glancing menacingly at the clearly oblivious elephant. "Private Fatty over here – "

"That's not his name," Heng whispered back, without turning his head away, for fear of Vachir's ever alert senses spotting his perceptible apathy.

_" – __of course, you soldiers are the only thing that stands between us and the enemy. The enemy is everywhere, everything, anything for that – "_

"What's his name then?" Jin inquired.

"You think you're clever, don't you?" Heng stated, admitting defeat, not seeing but somehow distinguishing the sudden appearance of the triumphant smirk that overtook Jin's scrawny mouth.

"Well?" Jin asked again, though this time the tone was serious and meditative. "Go on then."

"Not yet," Heng responded quickly.

_"__The rising reports of corruption in this Guard shall not be tolerated. I fear that if this occurrence manifests in the core of our elite combatants –"_

"What?" Jin questioned crossly.

"There's a specific time, when he stops talking and asks questions." Heng muttered between clenched teeth.

"Like now?"

_"__Furthermore due to recent funding cuts there will have to be a few dismissals here and there, but nothing that should seriously compromise –"_

"Like soon," Heng slurred back. "Just not – "

_"__And as far as the opium loss goes – "_

"Sir!"

The hall halted all activity, observable and indiscernible, immediately. The red seats beneath Heng were tilted towards him, the contiguous seats swerving to get an improved (and possibly ultimate) gaze at the irrational fool that would dare interrupt Commander Vachir. Heng almost felt the heavy scrutiny of Vachir himself , withering and scornful, the gray eyes barren and unrelentingly fuming. He would either receive abuse for his mistake… or he would receive abuse for his usefulness. At that juncture Heng wished someone would kick him, hard.

"What… the hell… ARE YOU DOING TRYING TO INTERRUPT ME GODDAMIT?"

Heng discernibly felt himself shudder in a gut reaction, viewing back fretfully at Jin before receiving an encouraging, albeit worryingly petrified nod. He gulped and tried his luck further.

"We are likely looking for a master criminal, one that has extreme motive for grand, nefarious plans that require careful – "

"WHAT?"

"About the opium issue," Heng attempted, although his voice was rapidly draining out into the frigid morning air. "It's always left in stacks of ten. Normal persons could not attempt this, much less addicts. And, adding the fact that the heist was carried out so fastidiously, so carefully… it would be wise to ask the 22nd Regiment for their reports on Major Organizational Crime. After all, that's their job, isn't – "

"BULLSHIT!"

Heng silenced himself immediately, feeling his throat seize in firm obedience.

Vachir's voice had boomed throughout the auditorium, alarming some of the younger recruits and only warning the older ones. His head was turned at a slightly upward angle, the palpable contempt reaching Heng, who was over 200 feet away. His steps were measured and deliberate, done forward only to better focus on the miniscule (from his perspective) warrior. The heavy snarl had informed nearly all of the Guard, warning them of the vicious tongue-lashing that was to come.

"So you're telling me that because you've got the money to do some fancy mathematics stuff that us, _lower men_ can't do…"

Heng felt a twinge of past resentment flare up once again.

"YOU WANT ME TO ASK SOMEONE ELSE FOR HELP?"

Perhaps it was merely the pang of emotion, or perhaps it was Jin's anxious signals to speak his mind. Either way:

"Sir, I think my logic is adequate so far…" Heng proclaimed shakily, quietly shifting his feet. "Perhaps it would be… best." He took a second to steady his uneven breathing, although inwardly he knew he had maybe only aggravated it. "And I know you don't believe me –"

"Agreed," came back the completely unexpected, surprisingly conversational reply.

"Sir?"

"I agree. I just wanted to see if you would stick to your convictions as much with a thorough, old-fashioned verbal beatdown. I find it is a fantastic test to weed out the weakest, most pitiful, sorry excuses of ideas you low-life idiots could ever come up with. This one of course, has passed the… test. Your plan is easy to follow through with too. Besides, the worst thing that could happen that if you're wrong is just your own execution, right?"

Heng knew the words were lies, but there was something characteristically unsettling in Vachir's trademark malicious smile that made it all the more worse.

"Go. Follow Private Heng's suspicions. Serve his head to me with some sauce if he wastes our time."

Perhaps it was the amazement at being finally listened to, or the abrupt screeching of nearly 34,000 red chairs orchestrating together, but Heng soon found himself alone with Vachir in the center, cleaning up various props he had somehow utilized in the meeting.

_I should really start paying attention to those things. _

He had really tried to climb down the shimmering ladder and join the others, but the impulsive recollection of an obstinately pesky memory defeated the logical side of his mind, goading him into utter stupidity.

"Sir, what's the story behind the scar?"

Vachir turned slowly, the gash almost… squirming abominably underneath the poorly-concealed, livid emotions. Satisfyingly though, his response met Heng's expectations, with the precipitously timeworn commander motioning towards the golden ladder.

"I am sure they are missing you."

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_***Catti = unit of Chinese weight measurement, roughly equal to 1.33 pounds.**_

_***Yaogun, zhi, jiandao! = rock, paper, scissors**_

_**A/N:**__** Wow, this one took long! And with the multiple storylines and subplots - excited for the future! Couple overall points: (since the story is getting more complex as time goes on)**_

_**-This is primarily a drama series. Action still has a large presence, but dialogue, setting and events create much of the suspense.**_

_**-I still don't know how dark/mature I want to make this. It's rated T for now, and that won't be changing for the near future.**_

_**-Writing Heng's chapters for me are somewhat more interesting. His "story" hasn't been established yet, so I'm free to make it as flawed and "human" as possible, compared to Po/Five, which is mostly set in stone... for now. *evil smirk***_

_**-The political/psych themes are pretty fun to mess around with too!**_

_**But like any of my work, if you object just say the word and it'll change!**_

_**Well, keep reading, R/R and may the Wuxi Finger Hold always be with you!**_


	7. The Game

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

Even though Po's colossal paw was firmly enclosed around the cylindrical pipe, his fingers were lazy and stumbled frequently in the pathetic attempt to limit the torrent of water gushing outwards. The pipe had remained broken for ages now, the previously translucent blue stream now pouring with brown, murky liquid. His room was always like this.

"Po."

The gentle paw that clasped his right shoulder was shaking very slightly, a deceptive tremor so thoroughly camouflaged beneath anger and worry that it seemed almost non-existent. Po however, knew better. He _always _knew better.

"Where was he buried?" Po stated plainly, the voice monotonous and impartial. He thought whether he should turn around and face her, but decided against it as he felt the grip on his shoulder tighten slightly.

"By the Peach Tree," Tigress whispered, the breaths steady and resolute. "A master's wishes…"

"Hey Ti?"

Tigress lifted her paw off the revolving panda as his rounded features regarded her with deeply entrenched sorrow. The torrent of water was rumbling loudly, blocked off by Po's clumsy repair job, consisting of merely two sticks of wood. Chopsticks, above all. Tigress stifled a grin.

"Yes, Po?"

Po took several moments to deliberate the exact phrasing of his thoughts. The rest of the Five were occupied controlling the village's reaction to this. It was truly alone for both of them, with no unnecessary distractions in his already bare room. It was simple and clean, empty and cold, lifeless like –

"Are you, you know, sorta… you know… feeling something about this?" Po finally managed.

The orange gaze remained just as unreadable as ever.

"Feeling what, exactly?" Tigress questioned, although she admitted to herself that this statement was, at best, a stall for time. _He always knows._

"Guilt?"

"No."

The response had come so hastily, so perfectly enunciated and devoid of tangible pathos that Po stared in bewilderment for nearly an entire five seconds before replying.

"You're the leader."

"I am the Head, yes." The feline answered plainly.

"So you're like, in charge of us right?"

"I am indeed."

"So whatever happens to use sorta falls on you right?"

"Precisely."

"And what fell on you now?"

The floorboard moaned in agony as Po shifted around clumsily, unsure whether to prepare for combat or encircle her with his arms. Her expression however, remained unaffected, the words again rolling out flawlessly strong and specific.

"Nothing."

Po felt a surge of resentment so dominant he felt he might start bleeding automatically from his jaws, the mandibles clenched tight enough to inflict pain.

"What's wrong with you?" He stated quietly, unable to think properly with such an all-consuming anger. "You always do this… thinking everything doesn't matter and – "

"It doesn't."

Po steadied himself, forcing his breathing to even before speaking out gradually and coolly.

"What the hell do you mean it doesn't? I mean, like, with all the weird things to think of-"

Po stopped mid-sentence, discouraged by a lack of sufficient feedback in Tigress' face. He attempted a different approach:

"Would it have mattered if I went the same way?"

Tigress glared at him intensely, a virtually undetectable frown appearing for a fraction of a second.

"He overdosed."

Po only vaguely remembered Tigress' orange feet striding away as his ears viciously tuned into the sudden sound of thin wood colliding with the floor and the smooth splashing of water.

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It was morning again. It was morning yesterday as well but the Jade Palace Masters were so seldom outside that it might as well have been raining fire and stones without anyone perceiving even the slightest disturbance. The very air of the Training Hall seemed to be dense and hefty, clogging the atmosphere and dragging the spirit of anyone who entered. Six figures of varying sizes sat down next to the weapons rack, the painfully obvious silence causing anxious gulps and hasty breaths. The small eyes of Master Shifu blinked gently yet purposefully as he attempted to find words to match his thoughts.

"I just want to make it clear – this was not anyone's fault." the fatigued voice muttered.

Po found this very odd. _Of course it wasn't our fault. _There had been absolutely zero indication that Crane was suffering from any sort of – his features cringed when he thought of the exact term - _drug problems. _It was becoming increasingly common in the younger generation, but it had rarely reached the more staunch conservatives trained in the art of Kung Fu. A master so utterly possessed with perfection - mental, spiritual, and physical perfection – had essentially thrown away his entire life's ideology all for perhaps two hours of short euphoria. Even for Po's admittedly subpar analytic abilities, this seemed a bit far-fetched.

"I think we all know," Po spoke, attempting a humorous tone. "Crane wasn't exactly a type of guy who you know – " Po peeped fretfully at the five masters, taking care to avoid Viper's expression. She of course, had made that remarkably easy as her slender head was tilted downwards, the body coiled on the floor so that the normally inquisitive and encouraging eyes remained carefully hidden. Po wondered whether that gaze would ever exist again.

" – shoot up." The panda finally completed.

"It matters little the circumstances shrouding his death," Shifu replied, the voice gruff and forceful. "His sudden inclination towards hedonism is not the main point of concern currently, it is rather _why_."

Po arched his back forward as he struggled to comprehend what the red panda was saying.

"Ke-Pa's statement worries me even more," the old master continued, his features suddenly focused and determined. "He said he was playing a game. Thoughts?"

"He said he wanted to, Master," Tigress quickly answered, her composed manner and frustratingly objective demeanor incensing Po once again. "He never explicitly told he was."

"So what is this?" Shifu questioned, the plump face rotating around to glance at each of his students. Po noted how they passed very speedily over Viper, whose head had suddenly reemerged and was glaring viciously at Shifu. The burning gaze was almost poisonous.

_Crane once made a joke about Viper's tail being shaped like a needle. We laughed so much that day._

"Some kind of mind game?" Shifu continued.

"A game we are far too underprepared to go for." Tigress countered, the pupils coldly logical and severe. "He stopped to try to _help _him."

"Yes he did," Shifu spoke, the rigid face softening slightly, although more in befuddlement rather than warmth. "He's trying to – "

And unexpectedly the old master seemed more damaged than ever as he mutely confessed defeat. Po had never seen the Grandmaster ever lack a proper explanation. Yet it seemed this time that his whiskers were drooped and melancholy, the eyebrows scrunched together to form three identical lines on his small forehead.

"I don't know." Shifu finished. "I don't know."

"You told Po that once," Monkey added.

"We're done grieving," Mantis sounded out, the tiny insect visibly jerky with rage. "I am done sitting on my arse thinking about when and why. I _know _the pig's behind this."

"No you don't," Po retorted, the speech weary.

"YES I DO! LOOK AT THE CRAP THAT HE WAS BEHIND! LOOK AT ALL OF IT! JUST LOOK AT THE MASSIVE THREAT HE WAS TO THE VALLEY BEFORE! AND NOW HE COMES BACK WITH SOME FAKE NAME LIKE YUANG AND THINKS HE CAN SOMEHOW FOOL EVERYONE! BUT HE WON'T FOOL ME! HE WILL NEVER – "

"Quiet."

The serpent's expression was almost inaudible, yet the tone was so deathly, so unbearably terse and heavy that Mantis's puffed chest receded significantly as the insect hopped onto Monkey's curved shoulder in twitched, poorly hidden conceit.

"What are the facts?" Viper stated reticently.

_Tigress would be proud, _Po thought with mild annoyance. _What had Crane used for it… taciturn?_

"Viper," Monkey whispered, "We know how this might be… a bit… difficult for you – " A furry arm reached out mildly to the top of her green head before feeling a wisp of air as Viper snapped her entire body away.

"What are the facts?" she repeated clearly and bitterly.

"He was definitely no druggie," Po returned, feeling restored to shift his mind off of the overwhelming sense of grief threatening to wound him. "Must have something to do with all that opium stolen from the Guard's confiscated stockpile… Poisoned?"

"Guard, probable place of crime," Shifu indicated. Po felt visibly confused as he noted Viper's expression harden as Shifu's reply arose.

"Is there anything going on between you guys, or – " Po spoke, wagging his finger between the two masters. Viper's face was expending a hatred so personal Po knew as inherently unstable, while Shifu's looked almost baffled and out of place.

"Viper is just trying to make sense of the situation…" Tigress interrupted, the annoyingly objective voice now replaced with an manifestation of truthful interest, aimed at Shifu.

"Likely _perpetrator_?" Viper demanded, the voice heavy and the emphasis practically raised to a yell. Shifu seemed taken aback but effortlessly maintained his composure.

"Nothing as of readily apparent observation…" The cantankerous voice was smoother this time, almost forced to become… _more elegant_, Po noted.

"Go fetch me some more soup," Shifu pointed at Po, who had only just noted the empty wooden bowl lying behind the red panda.

"I will accompany the Dragon Warrior," Tigress added, teeming with eagerness.

Po attempted to march as quickly as possible through the brown doors before unfortunately distinguishing a particularly accusatory voice:

"So what, you're just going to ignore me all day?"

"No, no," Po answered as the briskly walking feline strode alongside him. "All life, maybe."

"You're not seeing this clearly, Po…" Tigress started, although Po was quick to cut her off.

"Shove it."

"Let me at least talk to you…"

They took a left down the hall, the floor creaking as they approached the archway to the kitchen. Po ducked his head carefully as he instinctively spotted the kettle closest to himself. As his keen muzzle articulated to him, the soup was still quite warm.

"Explain then," Po commanded, violently seizing the nearest soup pot but then proceeded to cradle it close to his chest as he realized the unstable nature of the liquid filling it.

"Please don't be angry with me," Tigress implored. "Please."

"Ok, fine, I won't."

"Good."

Po failed to notice that they were now in the middle of the hall, and consequently stopped mid-gait to watch Tigress hopefully.

"And?"

"And what?" Tigress requested.

"Apologize for making fun of a dead guy?"

"I have nothing to be ashamed of."

Even though the kettle was already sufficiently hot, Po thought it might have become even warmer with the state of his fingers.

"WHAT?"

"He died because of what he did, not because of something else."

"We just talked about this! It wasn't him! It was Ke-Pa and his stupid – "

"You are a fool to believe Ke-Pa did this."

Silence.

"Oh, and Po," Tigress dared, even though Po was close to exploding, arbitrating from his cross features.

"I would have reacted much differently. If you had gone the same way."

Po forced himself to not speak with Tigress anymore as they walked back glumly to the Training Hall. Shifu's hungry expression urged him to elongate his steps, as he quietly tilted the pot to allow yellowish liquid to fill the bowl on the floor. Shifu, (who was by now very well acclimated to Po's cooking finesse) took it gratefully and elevated it up in the air slowly before allowing his lips to approach the surface of the golden noodles.

"Masters!"

Po heard six simultaneous grumbles and gestures of annoyance (including the particularly angry thud of bowl against floor) as Zeng raced through the open doors and into the small room. The ruffled blue wings flapped in panicked distress as a small scroll rolled towards Shifu. The thin fingers grasped it almost instinctively, unfurling it with enough force to practically tear the scroll apart.

"Yuang elected for Council?"

Po tightened his face as he wondered internally what exactly Shifu was saying.

"City Council?" Mantis responded, his voice threatening to erupt again.

"It's all in there Master," Zeng breathed out, the expression immediately adopting a disgusted look. "He's convinced the people he's changed! Said he did what he had to because of - personal issues."

"Personal issues?" Shifu's inquiry was soft and low, but the subtle antagonism present was enough to make Po freeze in anxiety. He desperately hoped Zeng would receive this message as well.

"Yes Master," Zeng breathed out. "Childhood drama and all that. Absent parents. Rough side of the neighborhood. He won by a landslide! Beat out – "

Po predicted that Shifu would cut off Zeng immediately as the master stood up in blatant comprehension.

"Oh, he's clever…" Shifu spoke, an improbably warped leer appearing briefly. Both Tigress and Viper frowned worryingly. "Utilizing people's emotions in the mix. With such rampant social problems for the youth, especially right now – he's appealing to people. He's claiming to be the solution. He thinks people will look up to a reformed man - the only type of person who wasn't always fighting for good."

Shifu glanced at his students, the calculated retinas passing over them in quick succession. Po shifted around noisily as his backside started to ache from consistent pressure.

_Crane did say my arse was the size of – _

"Someone who empathizes with the scum of society," Shifu continued, the drawling voice booming with much more vehemence than ever before. "Who knows them… who listens to them…" The focused pair of eyes settling briefly again on Viper, "…who feels for them."

Po felt a bolt of air shoot past him as the green serpent coiled herself firmly around Shifu's throat, clutching it tightly enough for Po to hear the compression.

"Viper stop!"

"What are you doing?!"

"VIPER!"

"Viper have you gone mad – "

"Hey!"

The urgent voices did not seem to faze her though, as Po found himself struggling with the rest of the Four - his mind twitching in agony just at the thought of their newly decreased number – to tug Viper off.

"WHY?" she roared, her body tensing even more unwaveringly now that it had significant resistance. "HOW ARE YOU SO GOOD AT THIS? AT JUST BLENDING IN? AT JUST DIVERTING EVERYTHING TO SOMETHING ELSE! I'VE SEEN YOU EVERYDAY! YOU'VE CHANGED! YOU ALWAYS KEEP LEAVING, YOU NEVER COME BACK! YOU NEVER TRY TO EVEN DO ANYTHING AS THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU KEEP NOTICING THESE THINGS! SOMETIMES YOU – "

Po felt the agile green tail shudder slightly as it became limp. He turned his head to observe Shifu's slender index and middle finger pinched around Viper's neck.

"She's just angry," Shifu breathed out erratically, rubbing his now accessible throat. "She's undergone such immense tragedy, and is looking for someone to blame – "

"Classic coping mechanism," Monkey added. Po caught a glimpse of Monkey smiling at Shifu smartly, while the old Master glared harshly back, almost expectantly. The red panda seemed to assess the primate for a second, staring noiselessly at him. Po attempted to penetrate through his Master's unconscious psychological defenses, but still was unable to deduce anything from just his face. He thought briefly about asking him before shutting his mind down. _Today I focus on what's important. _Shifu rubbed his back gingerly.

"Anyway," Shifu continued, dismissing Viper's interference. "Ke-Pa is clearly manipulating someone. For him to become councilman is most… peculiar. Make no mistake… the game he is playing is undoubtedly deadly. He may try to undermine our reputation, he may try to underscore his own strength… please remember to trust only what you know." Po, although he felt the information was exceedingly generic, still nodded his head in appreciation. The pig had been elected councilman… and yet he was a villain, by all means. _One of the bad guys. _So why was the pig so determined to stay in their lives? He had undertaken a completely new alias now, and had instantly exploited his reputation to assume power… to do –

_I don't know._

It escaped Po's thinking. There was no motive behind the pig's forceful descent into their lives. There was no absolute meaning behind his double plays, his musings that he was playing a game, that he was a changed man…

"What now Shifu?" Po questioned, staring at Viper's motionless form. The Grandmaster's stare was forceful and commanding, but also contained a hint of remorse.

"Carry her back to her chambers."

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The moon lit the Palace Courtyard brightly as its effervescent glow radiated throughout the floor. The Palace itself remained as dark as ever, except for a golden primate that strode slowly out from its large wooden doors. His steps were thoughtful and decisive, and he hopped the steps two at a time, approaching the red panda in front of him with an eager zeal. Master Shifu himself was less pleased, as he harshly slapped away the furry hand that was stretched out in front of him.

"Not yet," Shifu angrily remarked, while Monkey rubbed his sore hand, his nose twitching in feigned betrayal.

"_Classic coping mechanism_?" Shifu bitterly questioned.

"Well uh," Monkey started, rotating on the balls of his feet, looking like an embarrassed toddler. "Best I could come up with."

"It wasn't enough," Shifu stated simply, the gaze burning into Monkey's eyes. The primate moved back slightly, still mesmerized by his sore hand. "You failed. Viper knows more about my nocturnal activities than anyone else. That dim-witted panda on the other hand – "

"I need some, please."

"No. Do you realize that your sole duty is to divert suspicion from me?"

Shifu felt himself well up as he once again noted Monkey's nervous glances and repeated offers of his hand. The Grandmaster again smacked it away and spoke much more tenaciously this time.

"The pig has successfully assimilated into the Council. With any luck from the opiates I supplied him with, he should be able to persuade the other members to pass Law 45."

"Law 45?"

"My own invention. It bans the opium trade, even for medical reasons."

Monkey stopped rubbing his hand and stared at Shifu more confusingly, shaking his head back and forth in stubborn denial.

"That would – "

"Would be counterproductive to my own operations, I know… but the pig is much more deft at the art of sabotage."

"Shifu," Monkey pleaded, "I cannot keep up with what you are saying. And please… I need it now."

Shifu regarded him for a moment, enjoying the dominance he so firmly had clasped in himself. To him, it was something far more addictive and persuasive than opium …

_Power._

"Your execution of tasks is becoming far too sloppy… when I mean distract her – I meant actually distract her. And in return for your dismal service…" Shifu flashed a white pouch underneath his robes. "That is the terms of our correspondence, is it not?"

"I haven't had any for nearly three days… my body needs it," Monkey asked again. "_I _need it." Shifu smiled in delight.

"Beg."

"Please."

A swift throw of a white, powdered bag was sent towards the primate, who clutched it quickly and began to crush it into multiple pieces.

"I hope you enjoy it…" Shifu slurred, watching the master pound the floor with passion. "Eatable versions were by far the pig's greatest invention – if he wasn't so submissive, he might have actually garnered some respect from me…"

Monkey did not even bother to hold his head upwards to thank the master before he was gone. Shifu had always considered brevity to be a highly valuable trait – this poured over into practically every encounter he had with the old Master. He felt a pitiable feeling of guilt well up briefly in his chest before feeling ecstasy overwhelm and cloud his senses. His eyes rolled over as he felt the familiar feeling of weightlessness envelop him. He smirked briefly, enjoying the onslaught of blurred vision and blank thoughts. The tears would come, but only afterwards.

_Only after this._

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"Stop playing with that Tigress."

Po had perhaps told her a thousand times within the past hour to relinquish her hold over the small needle, but she still stared at it in genuine curiosity.

"Sorry," she replied loudly over the din of the massive drums not 12 feet away from her. "It's just that…"

"Yeah?" Po pushed further.

"Nothing."

"Dragon Warrior." Po grimaced as Ke-Pa approached him.

Po huffed in anger as the pig grabbed hold of his arm, silently obliging him to follow into a more quiet area of the funeral. Crane's body itself was not shown to anyone, completely veiled by the massive black casket that was being carried by four bunnies to Po's left. On top of a podium, a eulogy (which Po had long since tuned out of) was being delivered by Commander Vachir. He glanced back nervously at Tigress, who assured him silently of his safety before returning to stare at the needle. The rest of the Jade Palace was seated to either side of her.

Po sighed as the pig's hold on him tightened. He, like the rest of the attendees, wore bright white dresses which fell over the knees and encased most of the body. Po felt his tug slightly to the corner as Ke-Pa seated him down on a small clay chair, with a Mah-Jong set laid out in front of them. The pig grasped his chair slowly as he tilted his body and beckoned the tired frame downwards.

"Do you play?"

"Why are you here?" Po asked, preferring to be as direct as possible before Vachir's booming statements caught his ear.

"And therefore, we feel that at the Jade Palace the proper maintenance is not being kept –"

Po felt a sense of apathy shroud him before glancing at Ke-Pa with apprehension.

"Why are you smiling?" he dared.

"Why do you think?"

"I don't like your stupid games."

"Mah-Jong," the pig grabbed a card and set it down gently. "is all about strategy."

"Is that so?" Po mused, smiling. "_Master Yuang._"

"Hehe…" Ke-Pa laughed, letting loose his own mischievous smirk. "I know, right? People are so easy to believe… so quick to believe in reformed change…"

"They _are _good people."

Ke-Pa slowly placed another card down.

"They _want _to be good people. Deep down they're all detestable, groveling beggars of people that – "

"You're garbage that has no soul," Po retorted.

"The pot calls the kettle – "

"I am _nothing _like you."

The pig seemed much more amused by this, glancing calmly at Po's furious gaze. He seemed to be enjoying himself.

"In precisely four minutes," Ke-Pa started, scratching his chin in mock-thought. "The game begins."

"What?"

"Oh by the Gods… still can't keep up can you… _Po_._"_

The table shook slightly.

"Do not _ever_," Po spoke, softly and threateningly, "call me that again."

"Why not?" the pig responded. "I am Master Yuang. And you are Po. Or are we? See we're both just liars… it's just that some of us are better liars than others. I can lie well to myself. Can you, panda?"

Po felt himself strain under the pressure.

"My life is not a lie."

"Isn't it?" the pig hissed. "_Dragon Warrior._"

Po felt himself sigh and look upwards, thinking heavily.

"Pay attention to the Commander, Dragon Warrior."

The panda grudgingly turned his head, to immediately become startled as he observed multiple angry villagers as they shouted abuse at the Jade Palace masters, who all anxiously attempted to verbally defend themselves. Only Tigress stood alone – still staring in perpetual captivation at the needle held between her two fingers.

"Therefore, it is of the highest importance that the Jade Palace no longer be trusted with significant matters… considering their very own being caught with illegal substances – " came Vachir's potent voice.

"WHAT?" Po heard Shifu's angry scream as the old Master pounced onto the podium. "Listen, I know you all have every reason to be upset… but we did not attempt this! Monkey's unfortunate addiction was not known to any of us! If we had known about it… maybe we would have tried to – "

Po felt his heart race more quickly than ever before as he struggled to believe what he was hearing. Monkey… _No. That was…_

The old master's tone was overpowered however by the massive rumble of the crowd as they adamantly refused to let Shifu finish.

"Just so soon after Law 45 was passed!"

"We're supposed to trust these people?"

"_They _are the defenders of the Valley?"

"They do the drugs themselves! They've probably stockpiled the things by now!"

"Monsters, all of them!"

"I hope they all die!"

"My children once looked up to these criminals!"

Po saw another face, far more happy and sporting a deranged, massive grin as Tigress laughed hysterically, unable to control herself, still clutching the needle between her fingers. The tears that were running down the side of her cheeks were genuine and pained, but the laughter was more powerful than ever, and was visibly hurting her as Po could see it. He wanted to tell her to stop, to tell her that this was not the proper place at a funeral, but found himself unable to do either.

"It begins." the pig whispered briefly before standing up. "It's easy you see… to break hope. To break models. To break those who we look up to. Without them… how will we act?"

Po gulped again, feeling his heart beat erratically out of control. He glanced again at the crowd, increasingly angry towards the Masters, _his friends_, firmly entrenched in the idea of hatred. He knew the answer to the pig's question, although he desperately wished he knew nothing of the sort.

"Good luck Po."

The pig strode off, wrapping his cloak firmly around him, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust. The panda picked two cards and turned around in his diminutive chair, staring at the convulsing form of Tigress, still laughing with bizarre energy. Po crushed the cards in his hand, trying desperately to block out everything around him – the details too much, the world collapsing too quickly, the implications too foreboding… _and that laughter. _

He clapped the white furred paws to his ears forcefully, trying desperately to forget everything he was still hearing.

_**A/N: A very late upload, I know, but I couldn't help adding to the plot! Don't worry, future chapters won't be this long a wait time. :)**_

_**Story's getting much more hazy isn't it? A lot of the political themes and emotional elements come directly from sorta common sense... like how would an actual animal society respond to a lot of these events? Also, fair warning - this fic contains **__**lotsa **__**subplots, so its in your best interest to pay careful attention to the story... remember, it's all flowing towards one ending, I promise you! I find the more complex the characters, the more awesome they are! Hope you guys think so too!**_

_**Anyways, R/R and hope you're enjoying the story!**_


	8. A Wrong

In truth, Heng had made several attempts to reaffirm Vachir's full cooperation in his often-mocked "plan", but was even more confused by Vachir's lack of usual aptitude for telling lies. The mediocre evasions that were thrusted Heng's way were shoddy and lazily constructed, lacking both quality of details and believability of pretext… it were almost as if he was trying to invigorate a response from the young cadet, who seemed neither understanding nor curious. Even though Heng knew this far ahead of time, possessed a massive repository of experience with Vachir, and overall was able to deduce most of the shadowy Commander's motives much before the screams and beatings would arrive, he _still _found it persistently disconcerting… to think that the "mighty" Commander Vachir was now displays signs of meekness and reclusion; emotions that were so foreign to the subject that for many brief moments in his life Heng struggled to keep himself from laughing. Unfortunately it seemed, those moments were becoming rather more numerous than before.

"Hasn't even spoken a word about it then?" Manchu inquired, hastily stretching out his flabby grey forearms to seize two dumplings laid out in front of him.

"Not from what I've gotten from him," Heng responded, keeping a wary eye on his own dumpling. He had far too much familiarity with Manchu's voracious appetite to act foolish enough to leave his food unguarded. Manchu seemed disappointed by this.

"Ah well," the rotund grey rhino declared, waving vigorously to catch the attention of a troublingly pensive Jin, the small shoulders and pair of eyes quickly strolling out of the Hall. Heng had been sure he heard Manchu perfectly, but decided to focus on the problem at hand first. "You can't do anything about it, can you Heng?"

Heng grimaced. The dining mess was perhaps the absolute worst place to try to sustain a conversation; disregarding the persistent clatter of silverware against dishes, the occasional drunken leper who was almost entertainingly tenacious in his flamboyant efforts to obtain a hot meal, and the anxious, thudding steps of the cooks – he still had to deal with the stray bits of conversation, laughter, screams, and whispers that all desperately tried to fit into his eardrum. The amount of noise was overbearing, strangling perhaps, and much too incontrollable to allow the discussion of such a delicate topic. And the smells… the aromas and scents were diffusive and highly suggestive of quality pastries, freshly roasted dumplings, pungent noodles, and even the occasional soup bucket.

"Yeah…" Heng admitted, idly twisting his fork between his stubby fingers, noting the brilliant reflection of the golden chandelier above them displaying uniformly on the surface of the middle prong. He sometimes wondered how it managed to stay firmly secured to the high roof above them; the chain was flimsy and weak, clearly aging from the overbearing weight and lack of maintenance.

"Place is going to the bureaucrats…" Manchu muttered, noting Heng's distaste at his fork, quickly observing the bright yellow fixture above them.

"Thinking about something?"

Heng shuddered a bit and grasped his shawl tightly, firmly enclosing himself. Jin had reappeared just out of the corner of his eye, coughing and wheezing, whitened hands firmly clasped around a small, indistinguishable packet.

"No."

"Well you should be," Manchu continued, noisily chomping down a salad, the opaque leaf still dancing around the tip of his large mouth. Heng scoffed slightly under his breath, but quickly layered a look of amusement and mock-disdain over to throw Manchu off. The large fellow, although not perceptive, was intuitively linked to the detection of deceit.

"Vachir's gone off the deep end in my opinion," the double-chinned face spoke casually. "I mean, the whole ignoring you think is fine but the opium rumors…"

Heng sneezed. It was unlikely for Vachir to be anywhere close to as hedonistic as the rumors portrayed him to be. To Heng, he would always remain a figure of eternal desolation and shadowy thoughts; an enigma always left unchecked and undiscovered deliberately, the charge being large and angry enough most of the time to dispel such rumors with finesse. Besides, judging from his personal accounts, Vachir was a poor man… his struggling financial situation, his despondent wife, the desperation – it all matched in Heng's head but he knew the Commander to abide by a code of honor so incredibly rigid he doubted whether he would every break it… regardless of how lousy his circumstances ascribed him to be.

"Hey," Heng started, turning slightly towards Manchu to observe his pudgy features more clearly. The now-anxious face oscillated rapidly, disconcerted by the worried tone. "You don't think those rumors…"

"Are true?" Manchu finished. "Yeah, I do."

"How?" Heng retorted. "The man's an island. He practically is Oogway with a broader back."

"His principles are outdated…"

"To us, maybe."

"To himself as well. Did you see him in the barracks today? Mumbling, grumbling about something in a voice so quiet the Gods themselves couldn't possibly keep track of what he was saying?"

Heng smiled slightly as he recalled the humor of that predicament.

"So I have," Heng admitted.

"Then, you should understand," Manchu spoke softly, bending his head down even lower to fixate on Heng's face with a pervasive seriousness. "Bad things are coming Heng… not just for V-man either. With the opium issues and Master Monkey's sudden descent into – "

"Lies," Heng spat. "I know the primate, he would never – "

"Do what?"

Heng coughed mildly. "You know what."

"The same what that everyone says Vachir is doing?"

Heng vaguely felt the sensation of heat as boiling steam clouded his nostrils, the pristine form of a giant bowl of soup being freshly placed in front of him. He could practically feel the cook's arms tense as the old man struggled to correctly adjust the undoubtedly heavy bucket.

"I don't listen to nonsense," Heng regarded, thanking the cook under his breath.

"Of course you don't..." Manchu replied, the tired eyes drifting lazily upwards. "You never would."

"He was a friend of my father's, I think." Heng responded, desperate to shift the conversation away.

"Master Monkey?"

"Master Monkey."

Heng swallowed a rather large portion of soup too quickly and began coughing in earnest.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Manchu began. "Your father I mean."

Heng felt the burning sensation cascade down his throat and into his belly. "No."

"All right."

Heng internally felt the confusion once again envelop him as he wondered why so many things were acting out of place. With Vachir's rumors, Jin's mysterious behavior…

_The packet._

It meant nothing, he assured himself. No matter what he saw, he was anxious to disbelieve. Perhaps it wasn't a packet at all, maybe it was something else… and promptly laughed as he realized how stupid he sounded, even to himself. Vachir however, was more interesting… why _had _he become so reclusive?

_I asked him something I shouldn't have._

Heng sneered as he observed his now suspiciously empty plate, tilting his head to see Manchu's slightly guilty but nevertheless accomplished expression.

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The resident of the room of the Elite Commander of the Guard of the Valley of Peace felt that his title had included a ridiculously absurd amount of prepositions so henceforth he had cunningly devised the much more verbally ergonomic "ECG" emblazoned in golden calligraphy that faithfully accumulated dust on the front of his tent. On usual days the tent would be abuzz with activity: flaps closing and opening in quick succession, anxious rhinos fumbling out of the tent with fervor and fear, and even the occasional bunny. Today however, an incredibly painful silence surrounded the tent, filling it with a chilly coldness only the "Supreme" resident of the room had once possessed. The inside however, was adorned properly and had the makings of a great Palace, although a remarkably remote and clichéd Palace however. The leather walls were punctured with vast and small frames of various awards, the top of the center support beam brimming with certificates and battle plans… and yet the one, single, elusive photo that was supposedly "important" was hastily stuffed into a corner of the brown wooden desk, the colors faded and dulled as the three figures inside the frame lied, smiling as though they were actually as happy as their wide grins made them out to be. The female was holding a cup of soup, the yellowish liquid churning inside.

Commander Vachir entered his tent with giant footsteps, the massive gait allowing him to travel several feet at a time.

With a flourish he sat down on the wooden desk inside. The aged nostrils were defined and flaring, the deep, breathy bursts of air that they sucked in being as cold and sharp as the man's lectures. Vachir had heard many things, but among opium he did not find to be a particularly worthy foe…

_How is that possible?_

Although he would never admit it, just to create such a blatantly incongruous rumor required a certain aspect of boldness which he wished the recruits had possessed; it entailed tenacity and dedication to the lie, again two traits which he had rather wished would have been put to better use. He never did care about his reputation, but something in the verbose chants of "Vachir is a druggie!" seemed to wake him from his usual apathetic slumber that he frequently occupied himself with. They still listened to him, still ate what he told them to, still stood shocked in fear as he mirthfully slammed a recruit down to the ground, but it was far from well-acted. The ears were lazy, the mouth chewed the food only in apathy rather than fear, and the surprise was very much fake.

_Opium._

That was a far grander problem than he had anticipated. _That moron Heng_, he blithely thought. He had always held the recruit to a certain aspect of incompetence, at a slightly more elevated level than the rest of his equally dim-witted colleagues. He would never trust him with anything if he could help it, but when he couldn't… just the thought made him grimace. He had angrily stormed into Accounting that day, and was gravely disappointed to find the young recruits' report as informative as concise; the amounts of opium taken from the storage vault was precisely taken in very specific quantities; the heist was carried out in a manner so professional, so utterly serious that he wondered again about their motives. True, the drugs would benefit the gangs in their control of the Valley... a simple supply-demand issue, a void where one could become an almost irreplaceable provider. But he still wondered where all that had gone - _Master Monkey took some the other day, some pig took some, and_…

It still didn't add up.

No, there were far too much stolen, even adjusting for Monkey's and the pig's. True, the primate's seized reservoir was large and vast, but it did not nearly come close to the huge figures Vachir's analyst claimed had gone missing. According to him, a far more malevolent yet intricate force was at work; a cunning criminal so engrossed in deception that he or she was almost impossible to find, much less arrest.

_Semantics, _Vachir scorned.

Of course, there still remained the problem of the last question that Heng had posed to him. The question by itself was not immediately threatening. In fact, he had wondered why he had reacted so adversely to it in the first place, so protective and secretive that even that fool had found it peculiar. It was a simple story, but he felt that even if he had again heard the swishing of a cloak and the small footsteps of Heng, he would have punched him in the face. Hard. Just for asking him.

Vachir wrapped the cloak around himself more tightly. The frigidity in the air was incredibly powerful; so moving in fact that he felt compelled to make all his administrative decisions from here, just waiting out the cold outside with a sweet mug of warm soup –

And he quickly attempted to suppress those memories.

**_Flashback _****0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

_"__I love you Daddy!" the small rhino screamed, anxiously burying himself into his Father's shoulders._

_"__I love you too son," Vachir rumbled, the baritone voices flowing out creamy and smooth. And he sat down with rhythm. The young rhino bounded about, ripping and screaming in the green grass field as he felt the the feminine figure next to him slide down gracefully. _

_"__He wants to be like his Daddy apparently," the female breathed out._

_"__I never woulda guessed," Vachir responded, smiling with fervor. "I mean, it's not like I'm a hero or whatever…"_

_The female rhino chucked briefly before taking in a deep breath and practically screaming at the young boy._

_"__Take care to keep the dust off our head! It gets you sick!"_

_The young rhino leaped playfully off his back, prancing around with absolutely no care in the world. _

_"__I brought some for you," the female again interrupted Vachir's train of thought. "It's your favorite…" she slowly unveiled a small mug of golden liquid, the delicious, roasted fragrance wafting slowly into Vachir's nose. _

_"__Not bad," the Commander remarked, as he carefully held the cup from her. "Not bad at all…"_

**_End of Flashback 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000_**

The old rhino tilted his head upwards as he heard the usual opening of a flap and the light footsteps approach. Just the sound of those heels made him want to jump out of his skin, yet filled him with desire. He huffed as the slender pair of legs approached him, the bare midriff swaying gently as he felt the small hands close around his large, calloused head.

"Are you ready to begin?" the female breathed quietly into his ear.

Vachir turned his head downwards to again feel the usual feeling of desire, but instead restrained himself and again, forced himself to look at the aged frame lying beside him, the three figures again seeming happy. The oldest and tallest one playfully grinned, the smallest one was running around her Father's legs, and the female in the photo was smiling with a warmth Vachir wished he could have again…

"Why do you always do that when we do this?" the slender female announced, sitting on his large knee.

"To hurt myself," Vachir replied simply, before feeling his shoulders tense underneath her strong grasp as he was pushed down to the floor, the knees buckling underneath the sudden change of pace. He felt the female rhino mount him, the excited breaths heating his face. She moved her head downwards, nuzzling the crook of his neck gently as he felt more miserable than ever before.

"I promise you will enjoy this…" she slurred.

Vachir probably did, but the only thing he was determined to focus on was the grin that the female in the picture was sporting. He glanced at it forcefully, feeling the same uneasy feeling swell in his chest before squashing it and crushing the figure on top of him closer to his chest.

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"You're insane."

"You're mad, you are."

"Stupid psychopath, typical moron that you are…"

"We need Vachir to 'okay' this beforehand…"

"What will dear old mummy think of this?"

Heng didn't even bother to apologize as he felt his arm move by its own accord, instinctively connecting with Jin's narrow, oblong face. The thin figure stepped back a few paces from the force of the blow, huddling closer to the wide, broad shouldered frame of Manchu.

"That's enough from both of you!" Heng viciously yelled. "I don't care what Vachir thinks, I don't care if we need his stupid permission or not,"

"Heng – "

"Shut up! I don't care! It's practically no-risk! We sneak into Shifu's den and we sneak out, that's it!"

Heng was breathing rather rapidly now, the pulsating temples screaming for him to stop his berserk rage.

"That's the problem buddy," Manchu muttered, taking care to avoid angering Heng further. They were all outside of the tents past curfew, and the slightest noise could give them away. Granted, they were currently sprinting up the steps of the Jade Palace, so the fact that they could be discovered mattered little now since they had already agreed to this dubious plan. Heng's proposition and fears were justified, but not in the least bit worth risking their lives over.

"We can't do this," Manchu finished. "We'll get massacred. One: he's a kung fu master. Two: Vachir will kill us. Three: We'll get caught escaping. Four: Vachir will kill us. Five: It's illegal to break and enter into an established institution. Six: Va – "

"Shut up." Heng commanded. "You've seen the signs as well as me. Shifu's been close to Monkey. I'm not saying he provided him with it, I'm not saying he asked him as a plot, I'm not implying anything at all – "

"Then what exactly are you implying?" Jin interrupted, rubbing his sore cheekbone.

"It would be nice to get some info, that's all." Heng ended. "Think of it as an interview."

"Yeah," Jin scoffed. "With possibly one of the most powerful kung fu Masters of all time with some serious anger issues."

"Come on," Heng encouraged. "He took in the panda as the Dragon Warrior. What's his name… Pong?"

"Peng?"

"Ping?"

"Pung?"

"Whatever," Heng thought out loud. "I mean, if he could take in such a fat excuse for a warrior as the legendary warrior, then there's no telling what we could do. I mean come on… how tough could he be?"

Heng felt the two visibly deflate as they regarded him. He cursed underneath his breath. It was far too late for them to turn back now. Why had they spoken about their discomfort with this sooner? Why was it always at the end of every single operation that they had to voice their discontent?

"I guess," Jin and Manchu simultaneously wondered.

"Good," Heng attempted. "Now, stay close and stay low,"

"I bet you say that to all the girls," Jin retorted.

Heng smiled briefly before again sprinting up the steps, feeling that eternal feeling of curiosity being replaced with a more powerful emotion that he wished didn't exist.

_Father…_

_**A/N: I love subplots, just saying! **_

**_And the plot thickens! And wait, Heng's got a familial/relation to Master Monkey? What..._**

**_A lot of you have requested some analysis/breaking down of some of the finer elements in the story, such as ambiguous dialogue and open-ended... well, chapter endings! My only advice I can give you (without spoiling the story) is to pay close attention to the whole chapter... admittedly they're rather long, but almost every single line of dialogue, or line of text has some meaning to it. The trick is to not be daunted by the word count! I've always held that fiction is interesting when there's less said... and more implied. For some reason, people just _****_love_****_ to draw their own conclusions! But if you guys really want an outline of some sorts, or some analysis (not all, but some) just notify me and I'll do it..._**

**_Other than that, R/R and enjoy reading! Hopefully next week won't be as busy so I can get around to writing fics more quickly!_**

**_P.S: Special thanks to LJDAMZ (all Caps ftw)! Thanks for the reviews! And yeah, I do update a lot with authors' notes... I guess I'm absurdly scared of angry viewers, LOL!_**


	9. The Sons: Part I

"Enough! Enough!"

He was flat on his back. His chest wheezing from incredible discomfort, Po managed to arch his back upwards, but only felt even worse as his bruised ribs screamed in protest. Nevertheless, he was capable of briefly sitting upright and relaxed as his chest bent inwards underneath his huge shoulders. The head was tilted downwards with apathy, only lifted when a slender orange paw clasped the thick chin and elevated it upwards.

"You're pathetic at this," Tigress stated, smirking lightly as she released her grip and turned her back to the offended panda.

"I always was," Po answered, making sure to cup his chin again for absolutely no reason whatsoever. It was instinctual and reflexive, and he smiled as he kneaded the soft fur. "I never did get the hang of the Chaw-wow… I mean the Row-dow… maybe the gow-now – "

"Just call it the punch-kick," Tigress finished for him. "Even I can't remember the first few words."

Po was taken aback.

"You don't?"

"Indeed."

"The _impeccable_ Master Tigress can't remember something her Master taught her?"

"Yes, Po."

The panda bent down to pull his misplaced sandal over his bare foot. He stared at Tigress aimlessly, seeing her but not really _looking _at her. A swirl of betraying emotions swept over him briefly as he struggled to suppress them. Tigress' eyes were plastered with perceptive comprehension as the panda awkwardly swayed on the balls of his feet, clicking his heels together occasionally. Po also wanted to pretend to whistle, but deduced that Tigress already found his supposedly "nonchalant" body language to be nothing short of transparent. He smirked and glanced downwards at his newly covered foot.

"Really?"

"No, you moron."

Po moved quickly, circling Tigress' waist and hoisting her into the air. He crushed her as tightly as he could, trying desperately to hold in his laughter. He was satisfied to find Tigress snickering more deafeningly than ever before.

_Even louder than when the pig showed up at – _

"What…are…you trying… to do?!" Tigress breathed outwards between energetic giggles. "Are you insane?"

"I am not a moron!" Po exclaimed. "Say I'm not a moron!"

"No."

"Say it!"

"No."

"Say it or else I'll crush you with my massive forearms of doom!"

"I'm extremely scared."

"Tigress!"

"Po!"

The mocking tone only briefly made Po pout however, as the panda was dismayed to feel his arms quickly collapse against each other as the orange figure slid from his grasp outwards, leaping from his hold into the air. Tigress spun around in the air, coiling her body in a perfectly straight direction to gently land on the wooden mat below. The thud that was produced was elegant and soft; Po could not help stare hypnotically.

"Nice try, Dragon Warrior…" Tigress stealthily whispered. "You have much to learn."

Even as he tried to stop himself from rapidly connecting her statement with a long-hidden emotion squished in his mind, Po frowned as the memory overwhelmed him.

"Heh, you wouldn't believe how many times I've heard that," Po replied, fixating on the portrait of Shifu plastered to his right.

"He was always so grumpy."

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The clutter was not very distracting.

Indeed, the messy pile containing torn scrolls, bunched up red ribbons and a few smidges of pastry was mostly caused by the people residing _outside _of her room. She was quick to initially blame the panda for his repeated bouts of almost casual devastation as her once tidy room lay beaten and defenseless against that ball of white and black wrath. Well, wrath was not an adequate descriptor however as the double-overlay wood had not succumbed to his energetic movements and lazy strides; in fact, the sole thing that he _did _do was firmly and unerringly disorganize her room. It surprised her even more to feel how little she cared.

The green tail was facing limply on the ground, the normally bristly scales flattened against the hidden skin and tucked away behind a mess of scrolls. It was the same mess where her ovular head was currently resting on, occasionally causing a _crumple _or a _scrunch _as she tilted it forwards and backwards, moving rhythmically in the effort to force herself to think about his death. What bothered her even more, the emotions that crept upward at the thought of the graying, decrepit feathers and glazed over eyeballs were undeniably blank and hollow.

"Master Viper?"

The serpent initially wanted to dismiss the calling as some vague construct of her imagination, but later realized that even her own formidable mind could not fathom uttering such direct, harsh statements. Although Master Shifu was prone to emitting a bleak, cold aura of unforgiving pragmatism from time to time, more recently he had acquired a genuine (although very well-hidden) loathing that sharpened ears and toughened spirits. Always a man of unquestionable boldness, the deceivingly frail body of his hobbled into his room, white knotted fingers firmly clasped on the timeworn staff.

"Yes, Master Shifu?"

A misstep. She had started off well, genuinely mimicking a respectful tone but the name was spoken so blankly that even the namesake's eyebrows furrowed in subtle anger.

"You are currently becoming of no use to the Jade Palace," Shifu remarked with disgust as he prodded the stack of garbage stuffed underneath Viper's head. "It is unbecoming of a Master with your reputation. I advise that you immediately cease this prolonged grief-stricken solitude and help Po copy scrolls 2 and 317 to give to the Masters of the Onyx Palace."

The matter of copying itself, she judged, was extremely easy. Even though Po had struggled rotating the feather quill with his massive fingers stumbling over the thin center, Viper was confident that it would take her no longer than half a day at most. However, it was the abrupt change of expression that accompanied Shifu's derisive criticism; a few sentences before, he was biting away at her self-esteem, indirectly calling her unworthy of her title, and dismissing her justified pain. Then suddenly, he had swiftly introduced a task to her, a _menial _job at that. She hadn't been spared a second's moment to process what he had said to her nor even offer a half-rebellious rebuke of any kind; he had almost subconsciously expected full, compliant obedience.

"Of course Master," the serpent lashed out, keeping her words low and deliberately naïve.

"But before you walk out," she uttered, noting the Master's nonchalant disregard for her response before attempting to limp out of the wide doorway, "please inform as to how long you will keep up this act."

"An act?" Shifu responded quickly, turning about to face Viper squarely in the eyes. "What charade are you insinuating? That I do not feel grief over his death? That I wish something could have been done to keep Monkey from going into custody?"

She grimaced as she remembered the primate.

"No," she replied aptly, lifting her head and tail upwards, slithering towards him with a deadly efficiency. "I believe you wish you would have pulled it off better."

Complete silence.

"I'm afraid I do not understand," Shifu spoke, although rather slowly for his usual, brisk and defined manner.

"Let me simplify it for you," Viper mused, oscillating around him, the wood creaking into a harmonic although disjoined melody. "According to a friend of mine called Heng, There were approximately 10 catti's of opium pilfered from the Guard's confiscated storage. A few weeks ago, you had announced that the Jade Palace would be launching a new Drug-Seekers program, wherein we Masters donate our philosophical services to disadvantaged youth."

"Yes, and that received much attention and acclaim, if you are unable to remember."

"Indeed. And the fee for such an _invaluable _service was so meager, so small…"

"Just a full confiscation of all the… items that were rotting the youth's life."

Viper took a moment to choose her words carefully, deliberating on every single sound:

"Yes. We confiscated their items."

_Thwack._

She was completely unprepared for it. She felt herself collapse into the thin paper wall behind her, her head cracking against the heavy wood as the flexible tail coiled itself around her in a defensive position. She watched with pure shock as Shifu's oblong shape gravitated towards her, staff in hand and a menacing expression pasted on to his thick face.

"Are you implying," he spoke softly, taking care to punctuate his steps in time with his questions. "that I utilized the… items myself?"

"Of course not, oh _humble _and _principled _Master," she spat mockingly. "Not on yourself, no."

She was prepared this time. Shifu's long wooden staff had lunged forward with an incredible velocity; force enough to shatter the wood where Viper's head had been not moments ago, if she had not spun around and flipped on top of the mess of scrolls once again.

"You're a liar, Shifu," Viper stated, relishing at dropping the esteemed title from his name. "And you killed them both."

"Monkey is not dead quite yet," Shifu breathed, pulling his staff away from the now broken floor panel. "But he will be soon."

"You admitted it," Viper said, surprised. "I never thought you would."

"Admit?" Shifu laughed scathingly. "My dear girl, I admit that whatever they _took _turned out to be very bad indeed. At least the bird got off easy… didn't suffer that much did he?" He took time to monitor Viper's angered face and hurt boiling beneath it.

"Just a little splutter and _poof._"

With a feral roar, the serpent leaped to twist itself around Shifu's neck to firmly choke the furred neck. The staff was proving to be a major obstacle, as in her eager anger, she had bent around the small body as well as the wooden weapon; which was currently attempting to violently stretch her apart.

"YOU KILLED HIM!" she screamed. "YOU PRACTICALLY RAISED THEM AS YOUR OWN CHILDREN! AND YOU PLAN TO KILL HIM AS WELL!"

And suddenly, she felt her body convulse and become rigid as Shifu effortlessly pushed her off. She stared at the same hard features in awe; because even after 15 years of training and consistent, covert hatred, was still amazed by how quickly he had incapacitated her. Her eyelids fluttered closed.

Shifu poked the green head with his index finger, rotating it on the floor. With a sigh, he swung the wooden staff down next to her head to crack open the casing. The silver blade that peered out from behind the brown fragments was almost two-dimension; the edge was sharpened to a fine point. Shifu smiled slowly as he removed the rest of the casing, admiring its smooth, metallic feel and thin backing.

With a great heave, he brought it down on the serpent's neck. He frowned as the blood that gushed forward from the clean incision drenched the floor and moved the separated head a few inches to his left. Shifu sighed as the silver blade was now tainted with spurts of redness.

"Now you've gone and ruined my favorite blade," Shifu spoke with direct politeness.

"Hope you are happy."

And with a silent _swish_, the blade had returned to the center of his staff and the holder delicately strode through the wide doorway.

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_**A/N: A long wait, but here it is! Notice how the "Part I" is added in an aimed 3-part extra long chapter: hence the reduced length of this one. Hopefully, the next two parts will come out in 2 more weeks!**_

_**Some of you have written on how much you hate Master Shifu... the only thing I can give, without spoiling anything, is that try to understand where Shifu's coming from, and even try to get some ancient Chinese social structure under your belt as well. My intention is to make all characters in the fic flawed, but not without merit. Shifu's definitely not a nice guy, but don't be so quick to judge him. (Although from this last chapter, people might even more strongly disagree)**_

_**Other than that, enjoy reading, R/R and let the new episode of Kung Fu Panda: Legends of Awesomeness please arrive!**_

_**~KPeanut (my chosen fancy stage name)**_


	10. The Sons: Part II

"Shit."

He had lost again. Despite his laborious, heated hours spent toiling away underneath his stuffy cloth blanket studiously examining his copy of _Top Ten Tips to Win at Mah-Jong_, he had once again flared up in anger as he witnessed the uncontrollable laughter bursting forward from the diminutive bird seated in front of him. Zeng's angled yellow beaks snapped shut and opened repeatedly as his wobbling larynx bobbed wildly under the immense strain of continuing his clamorous mirth.

"Just give up Heng," Zeng practically shouted as he lifted the opaque brown glass in front of him to gently tip into his lower beak. "You've never been good at strategy." He took another prolonged sip. "Hey, Heng… Zeng! Our names rhyme!"

"I think," Heng muttered with a grin, pulling the dirty glass away from the protesting Zeng. "You've had one too many."

"No such thing," Zeng replied, desperately scouring the oak table for another glass. "Nothing like getting too much."

Heng agreed, but only reluctantly. The claim made sense in only particular scenarios, he reasoned. For instance, the bar that they had chosen to occupy was very much a paradise of hedonism and radical thinking. But it was well-past midnight, but just before dawn so that the moon's round luminescence was still draped over most of the Valley – although it was receding rather quickly. The normally vociferous and bustling life in the bar seemed to subconsciously match the light's timid regression. The crowd was thin; no more than a few isolated individuals plopped lazily on isolated chairs just steeping over the blunt edge of the actual bar itself, with the barman's face shining with eagerness to return home as he hurriedly dragged the thick white rag over dirty glasses and haphazardly threw them into aging shelves just above him.

"Everyone's trying to get away," Heng remarked, watching the bartender purposely ignore a rather dirty glass and promptly fling it into a bag beneath his waist. "Can't cope."

"Copesh with whatsh?" Zeng slurred, the wine clearly distorting his speech to nearly incomprehensible, guttural sounds. "It's all goodsh my friend… all good in Chinash today – "

"You're quite drunk my friend," Heng reproached, tiredly slapping away Zeng's persistent reach towards the central bottle.

"Always… hic… could hold… yoursh winesh better…"

Heng, although feeling a fleeting sense of pride at the closely incoherent compliment, was more concerned with Zeng's current state. True, his tipsy movements and garbled pronunciations could easily be mistaken as yet another one of his failed attempts to perform stand-up at the local club, but Shifu would know… he would sniff it out, seize upon Zeng's lack of sobriety immediately and possibly strangle that thin neck until the poor bird asphyxiated. _He's already gone through enough, _Heng ruminated. _What with Crane's passing and Monkey's incarceration_…

With a pronounced sniffle, Heng coughed as he heard the expected noise.

A door was opening. The young rhino shifted in his chair to better ascertain the small figure crouched in between the narrow doorway. The few inhabitants of the tavern grumbled with confused objections as the moon's light glided through the space, highlighting the crowd of stubble-covered faces, drooling mouths and cylindrical wine glasses.

"Shut shthe door…"

"Whoshe thish guy?"

"Unlessh your my wife…"

"Pleash, no more brightysh things…"

The small figure was not the least bit disconcerted. Heng grudgingly admitted a furtive admiration for the man as he discerned the subtle _squeaks _of Zeng idly rolling around in his chair. Master Shifu's stride from underneath the heavy wooden doors was confident and purposeful; Heng observed the light steps as he turned his whole body to face his query. Even though he was aware of the moon's splendor outlining Shifu's ovular frame to produce a long shadow, the dark patch that appeared seemed much longer and broader than the frame size would allow; the distinctive marking of a man who casted a much larger presence – a grand impression that was instinctively more terrifying than the often falsely restrained posture.

"Welcome," Heng called out as Shifu's quick gait propelled him dangerously close to Zeng's exposed head. Heng, recalling the gravity of the situation, covertly attempted to thrust Zeng off his chair.

"Pathetic," Shifu's smooth voice stated. He only took a brief moment to survey Heng's angered expression. "Not you. Zeng." Shifu's lips slightly arched. "Well, maybe you too."

"It's his first –" Heng tried.

"Silence Private," Shifu commanded. "I am well aware of Zeng's proclivity for… pleasuring himself."

Even though Heng knew the red panda was referring to the alcoholism, the implied innuendo was reactively fiery and destructive…even Heng felt some shame swell from the insult.

"It is as much his first time drinking as you are the Guard's first entry into this scum-invested _hovel_," Shifu emphasized with a slithery enunciation, disgusted expressions leaping forward from his bearded face as he grasped a chair and quickly moved it close to the table, taking care to cast dirty glances at the drunken bystanders and rotting night lamps, crimson flames collapsing from weak amounts of fuel.

"It's not as bad as it seems," Heng argued. "The Guard doesn't usually take to drinking kindly…" Heng grimaced as he noticed Shifu's polite expression. "… neither does the Jade Palace, correct?"

"No, it does not," Shifu agreed, pulling the bottle away Zeng's weak grasp. "Under normal circumstances." Zeng weakly flapped his wing around, clearly missing the cold sensation residing on his feathers. Shifu regarded him with contempt. "Perhaps pathetic is an understatement…"

"Or overstatement, depending on how you look at it," Heng supplied. Shifu languidly suppressed a smirk.

"The sticker tells jokes!" the red panda chortled.

Heng frowned at the insulting designation. _Sticker _was the brutal nickname the local villagers had often thrown over the Guard's members; the cloak's name implied the insertion of a stick into their behind, which would explain their usually straight-faced manner and strict moral code. He had once laughed about it, slammed the table with his fists in pure joy at the amusing term, but no longer felt the same rush of happiness.

He knew better. He knew _far _better. From the Emperor ceasing funding to the local accusations of drug abuse within the Guard, the formerly respected and toned force was very much an aging empire; rapidly being rendered obsolete by massive corporations boasting of formidable private security. The Guard was still _there_, but it seemed to occupy a rather insignificant vessel in the minds of men; for in their darkest dreams, the Guard was merely a reminder of the shadows.

"The shadows in the Valley are growing," Shifu read almost subliminally. Heng contorted his face into a sleek smirk before replying.

"The shadows…" he stopped, waiting for Shifu to finish as he always did in these situations. "Yes… they are."

"It's all numbers really…"

"Quite yes, numbers…"

Heng arched his thick eyebrows and glared at Shifu, possessed by a sudden desire.

"So if you decide to create the supply of opium…"

"Then indeed, I have to create the demand, correct?" Shifu responded.

Heng chortled.

"Not exactly," he whispered. "Demand's already there. You just have to get it out onto the market, and…"

"Watch people fall." Shifu replied inaudibly.

Heng relaxed back into his chair, shutting his eyelids into a profound, lingering sort of pain. This pain was a visceral hatred, a very undeniable fury that surged with no remorse. Its very path troubled the fine patience that struggled to resist in the barrel-shaped chest… filling the entire room, perhaps even Heng himself, with a dark and infectious foreboding. In his supercilious manner, he might have once thought to ask Shifu why such terrible events were of his doing. He wondered deeply why someone, especially someone in Shifu's manner, laying out the very traps of society that crushed most of people.

"You are aware you have five minutes more with me before Commander Vachir alerts the Guard to your absence." Shifu sneered.

"I'll take my chances," muttered Heng, the squeaking of Zeng's chair shuttering to a halt as the frail bird slipped off the wooden surface and collapsed on the floor, eyes glazed over and mouth blowing hot wisps of air.

_**A/N: Long, long, long wait time! But, my life has been sort of busy lately... so that's my excuse! Hopefully (and I say this a lot), things will get better? Nah, I kid. It will.**_

**_R/R and enjoy the reading!_**

**_(And pray Kung Fu Panda LOA will release an episode... or KFP 3 details be revealed?)_**


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